


Reconstructing Trust

by sgcgategirl



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-03
Updated: 2006-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgcgategirl/pseuds/sgcgategirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends are often the ones most taken for granted. For SG-1, an off-world mission helps to seal the breech before things get totally out of control. (Part of the 2004 Jackfic-a-thon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconstructing Trust

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS: Season five. Takes place immediately following Menace and prior to Sentinel. 
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: I should have stuck with my first instincts and simply organized this little challenge instead of asking for a plot bunny. It’s all your fault! (And you know who you are.) Seriously, much thanks go to the entire Jackfic-a-thon group for I would not have gotten the plot bunny if it were not for you. Thanks also to Hoo, my in-my-time-zone, YIM writing partner, who was very patient through my questions and paranoia. An abundance of thanks must go to Lynette for her truckloads of patience and her ever-willing red beta pen. 
> 
> And even after all of this help, if there are any mistakes, trust me, they’re mine.

“I trust you because I need you.”

—Mason Cooley, _City Aphorisms_ , Thirteenth Selection

“The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair.”

—Douglas Adams, _Mostly Harmless_

“The most fatal disease of friendship is gradual decay, or dislike hourly increased by causes too slender for complaint, and too numerous for removal.”

—Samuel Johnson, The Idler, no. 23, _Universal Chronicle_

***

Nearly a week and a half later and the words still echoed in his mind.

‘You stupid son of a bitch.’

It’s not that they were shocking, or strange, or even undeserved. He’d been called worse things in his life.

It was more than that. Much more. But it had taken this long for him to realize it.

He’d been busy, he knew, not that it was much of an excuse, but it did serve its purpose. Over the course of the week, they’d been through the base several times, but to Colonel Jack O’Neill it still felt as if there were more of those bugs in the rafters. Every now and then he swore he could hear the click-clicking of their metallic feet along the concrete. That, and the absolute disdain dripping from Daniel’s lips.

‘You stupid son of a bitch.’

It was more than the words. It was as if their entire friendship was wrapped up in that one simple sentence.

When did he lose their trust, his trust? When did the decay of their friendship first begin? How could he have missed it?

But when he had stood over Daniel, his gun still warm in his hands, something was different, something had changed. He’d turned and walked away, leaving Daniel in a heap on the floor and had gone about his business as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Maybe because the extraordinary had become commonplace. Since when had he become so callous? Since when had Daniel become a stranger?

With everything they’d been through—the highs and lows of life and death—it all came down to moments—moments of time, instances of seconds. Would he have done anything differently given the chance?

Jack couldn’t lie to himself, even sitting here on his back porch in the dark with a beer in his hand. He’d done that too many times during his life, especially with Sara. But now, when you got down to the facts, he knew for a certainty that things couldn’t have happened differently.

If those Lego bugs had gotten out, even just one of them—

The possibility of what might have happened was something Jack did not want to think about, but the nightmares still surfaced, crawling over his body, up his legs, under his clothing, waking him up in a cold sweat every time he managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Tilting the bottle to his lips, he took a mouthful. The beer was bitter, the liquid warm, but he swallowed it anyway.

He wasn’t in the mood for it, but there was nothing else in the house. He’d spent the better part of the last week on base until he was absolutely certain that not one block of those little buggers remained. Unfortunately that meant whatever edible items had been in his fridge had quickly become science projects.

Sighing, Jack stretched out his arm, placing the empty bottle on the deck railing, the glass thumping quietly against the wood, the sound blending into the deepness of the night air.

Thinking back, Jack realized that it had been nearly a week and a half since he’d last seen Daniel, last looked him in the eye. He’d left him in the Gateroom, cradling his injured arm, anger filling his features, those venomous words hanging in the air between them.

‘You stupid son of a bitch.’

It had been a week and a half since he’d talked to him.

He’d been busy, leading the sweep of the base, Teal’c and Carter helping him, each leading teams. He’d then had to fight to make sure that every last piece of those damn bugs was disintegrated instead of kept around for study. If the NID had gotten their way truckloads of replicator remnants would already be making the journey to Nellis and God only knows what might have happened then. Jack knew full well of their ability to keep highly classified material safe. So much for a high-security, secret facility. It was probably easier to walk into Nellis than the Colorado Springs Post Office.

And while all of this was going on, Daniel had been treated in the infirmary for his injury and sent home. Their paths never crossed, neither of them going out of their way to find the other.

Those words that had dropped from Daniel’s mouth however, hadn’t exactly made Jack want to go calling.

Once the yelling and screaming was over and the entire base wiped clean, he’d had dinner with Teal’c late one night, a quiet affair at a local pizzeria. They’d been wired, the two of them unable to sleep, craving a late-night binge and the flashing neon sign drew them in.

The smell of baking dough mixed with sauce and cheese instantly placed them in heaven, their stomachs rumbling ravenously, and they couldn’t wait a moment longer. Settling down at a table in the corner, the smell and the lights washed away the memories of dark, dank places crawling with spiders and remnants of replicators.

The pizza wasn’t particularly good.

The beer was warm.

But it didn’t matter. It was perfect.

In the morning even Jack had to admit that after a full night’s sleep and a breakfast of pancakes with a side of eggs and bacon, he felt almost human. But the familiar routine of work and meetings forced the next several days to blend, molding into an endless ream of paper and people, until pizza and companionship were a thing of the distant past.

And now sitting in the dark, the stars his only companion, Jack had finally found a moment to sit back and breathe. But what was he thinking about?

Those words, that tone, the whole incident with Reese—it just set his blood boiling. Trust, he knew, had to be earned, but hadn’t he? All those years of sacrifice, all those years of hard work and sweat, fighting with every breath to make sure that the snakes were defeated. Every day he fought to keep the Earth free of the disease that was the Goa’uld.

After everything he’d done, why wasn’t it enough?

Besides, it wasn’t as if he could change who he was or what he did. This was a military installation not a walk in the goddamn park. Sometimes, though, it seemed like Daniel forgot that. Forgot that this was a highly classified government project, a project that very well could come around and bite them in the ass.

How many times had the enemy come close to winning?

And what was Daniel crying about this time? That he didn’t have more time to talk to the robot. Well, her little toys were about ready to overrun the entire base and if it wasn’t for his quick thinking they might not be here anymore, another planet wiped out by the replicators because he felt bad for a machine.

That self-absorbed, whining little—

Damn him.

***

Dusting off the top of the book, Daniel’s nose twitched and his frown deepened as the cloud of dust hovered gracefully above the cover before dispersing into the room. Normally he wouldn’t mind working in his lab, in fact with all of the fieldwork SG-1 was required to do as a front-line team, working in his lab had become a luxury not oft enjoyed. But the fact that he was still having problems using his left hand made his work a little more cumbersome than usual.

Every twinge of his wrist, however, only reminded him of the incident with Jack. What was it with his shoot-first-ask-questions-later attitude? Why did the military continue to support that kind of unnecessary behavior?

Dropping the book on the counter, he turned to the door, his body tensing as he hesitated. Honestly, he had to admit that he was bored, but everyone had been busy—even Sam and Teal’c. The replicators had certainly infested the base and it had taken nearly a week to make sure everything was clean. The teams had been through his office often enough that, at one point, he was convinced it had turned into Grand Central Station.

He could tell that it was Jack’s order—the thoroughness, the single-mindedness that every corner had to be examined fifteen times. That military mindset of his wouldn’t let anyone rest until every single block was accounted for.

If only Jack had let Daniel do his job—talking to Reese and allowing her to shut them down—they wouldn’t have had to go through this whole circus affair. And they’d have a much better picture as to how Reese was created and how she made her toys.

But, of course, things hadn’t gone that way.

He could still see Jack standing there, his face an unfeeling mask, the military man at the forefront. Even his words—from his insincere apology to the curt orders he issued as he left the Gateroom—just drove home the reality of the situation and the absolute absurdity of everything.

Sitting on the cold floor of the Gateroom everything was crystal clear. They could have learned so much from her.

Sometimes he wondered why he’d stayed around so long, why he’d insisted on it. He’d done what he set out to do at the beginning. He’d unlocked the secrets of the Stargate only to watch later on as his wife was killed before him.

Not exactly the best payment he could have imagined. He’d been through the Stargate hundreds of times, met hundreds of different races, fought the Goa’uld, and forged alliances that helped them survive.

And what thanks did he get? Did anyone trust him any more now than they had when he was a wet-behind-the-ears bookworm?

He’d changed over the years, gotten stronger, gotten harder. He knew that. The things he was doing were worlds beyond anything he could have ever dreamt of when he was a student. He was world-wise now. He knew the risks, but he also knew just how much they still had to learn.

Reese would have been a piece of the puzzle—an important piece—if only things had gone differently, if only Jack had put some faith in him and his abilities.

Violence, while an answer, was never the right answer. Knowledge was stronger than any weapon, but one that Daniel never had the opportunity to wield.

He had that feeling again, the same feeling he’d had when he stood on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, a paper airplane ticket in his hand, as Catherine’s car pulled away from the curb. It was time for a change, a major one—and this time he wasn’t afraid of what it might be. At this point in time, anything would be better than this.

But why was he hesitating, standing beside his lab table, his eyes fixed on the corridor outside?

If he were honest with himself he’d admit that he didn’t want to run into Jack. He wasn’t scared, he was tired. He just didn’t want any more aggravation. His wrist was giving him enough as is.

The last thing he wanted to hear, however, was the announcement over the loudspeaker for SG-1 to report to the briefing room.

Expelling his breath, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to brace himself for the confrontation he was about to face.

Talk about timing. He grimaced as he put one foot in front of the other, his steps taking him closer to the one person he wouldn’t mind avoiding for the rest of his life.

***

Major Samantha Carter glanced up from her microscope, glaring at the speaker above the door.

Why was it that every time she was in the middle of a research project and it was getting interesting she was called somewhere else? Was the universe just trying to pull one big prank on her?

Sighing, she savagely punched a combination of numbers on the speakerphone pad. “O’Shea.”

“Gillian, it’s Sam. I need your help in my lab. Do you have some time to spare?”

Carter swore she could hear the smile on the Sergeant’s face. “I heard the announcement and I was just packing up a few things here. What are you working on?”

“General Hammond let me keep one of the replicator blocks for study. I just need you to put it into containment for me. I don’t want to leave it lying around.”

“Trust me, I understand. I think I can still hear the Colonel’s yelling from the other day. I’m surprised you were able to keep one of them for study.”

“Well, actually,” Carter said as she felt her cheeks turn a little red, “the Colonel doesn’t know about this one.”

“Ah,” O’Shea said, her tone full of comprehension. “And he’s not going to know about it either. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. You’d better go before you’re late.”

“I’m okay. It should take Daniel at least another ten minutes to get there. His coffee pot wasn’t working last I checked and knowing him, he’d stop for coffee on the way.”

Gillian’s chuckle filled the room as they signed off. Carter slid to her feet, her hands straightening the papers on her desk as her eyes scanned its surface, making sure nothing was out of place.

Reaching for her pad and a pen, she gathered both in her arms before heading to the door. Footsteps in the hall signaled the Sergeant’s arrival and ushered Carter out into the corridor in a hurry. “Thanks again,” she said as O’Shea passed entering the lab Carter had recently vacated.

“I’m keeping track.” O’Shea kidded. “And I’m going to ask for a payoff soon.”

“Just tell me when,” Carter called, already halfway down the hall.

Pausing to swipe her card in the reader next to the elevator, she only had to wait a few seconds for the car to arrive, taking her a few levels down to the briefing room.

She was surprised to find everyone except the Colonel in the room when she entered. Daniel was sitting in his usual place, his fingers tracing patterns on the briefing room table. Teal’c looked like he had come directly from the gym and Carter realized that the announcement must have interrupted one of his training classes. Teal’c had started a program for those interested in learning some of the Jaffa fighting techniques. Over the course of the past few years it had become more and more popular and he tried to keep the sessions as regular as possible while he was on base. This morning must have been a scheduled class.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said to General Hammond as she dropped her pad and pen at her place at the briefing room table. “I was in the middle of some research—“

“Understood, Major. We’re just waiting on the Colonel who should be here any minute now. He was signing in upstairs when I called the meeting,” Hammond said, settling down at the head of the table, straightening several of the pages in the folder he’d carried into the room.

Carter nodded as she moved to the sideboard table to grab a mug of coffee. Daniel, she noted, was coffee-less. Catching his eye she gestured to the carafe in her hands. Shaking his head, she nodded and poured herself a cup, surprised he didn’t want any.

A sudden shuffle of clothing was the only warning Carter had before O’Neill strode through the doorway, his long blue jean-clad legs taking him quickly to his seat. “Sorry, Sir,” he said apologetically, gesturing to his attire.

“At ease, Colonel,” Hammond said as everyone took their seats around the briefing room table. “I’ve called you all here this morning because we seem to have a problem at one of our scientific outposts.”

“Problem, Sir?” O’Neill asked and Carter swore she could hear his back straightening.

Hammond nodded gravely. “It appears as if the scientists on P3S-295 have missed their scheduled check-in.”

“That’s happened before, General,” O’Neill said, his fingers twirling the pen he’d snatched from Carter as soon as he slid into his seat. There went any thought about taking notes at this meeting.

“True,” the General conceded, “but that was because of weather conditions and it was only once. They missed the last two check-ins, the second earlier this morning.”

“Were we not able to make contact with them ourselves?” Teal’c asked, his baritone tones only adding to the seriousness of the General’s announcement. Carter knew all of the scientists on P3S-295 personally. She’d picked several of them especially for this mission.

“We’ve tried twice but haven’t gotten any response. The MALP appears to be operational and from the limited perspective we can get from its camera everything seems to be normal. There’s no weather anomalies and no evidence of battle. In short, I’m worried that we may have overlooked something when we did our initial survey of the planet. In any case, I want you to check it out and see what happened to the scientists.”

“When do you want us to leave?” O’Neill asked. Out of the corner of her eye Carter swore she saw something flicker across Daniel’s face, but when she turned to look at him, it was gone. She raised her eyebrow in question, but he shook his head, waving off her question.

“Within the hour if possible. I’ve already alerted Supply and your gear should be in the locker room waiting for you,” Hammond said, pushing himself away from the table.

Carter and O’Neill immediately clambered to their feet, Daniel and Teal’c not far behind.

“We’ll be ready, Sir.”

“Good. I know you’ll find them. Dismissed.”

Even before the General had crossed to his office, Daniel was already gone, a spinning chair the only evidence of his passing.

Carter raised an eyebrow at his behavior, managing to catch Teal’c’s eye. O’Neill, on the other hand, just shook his head, a sigh escaping from his mouth before his face hardened, as if he was closing down, pulling down the shutters. “I guess we should get ourselves geared up. Come on, campers. We’ve got work to do.”

***

By the time O’Neill and Teal’c made it to the locker room Daniel was struggling into his tactical vest, the unsecured bindings of the leg harness swinging free.

O’Neill walked over to his locker, his gaze settling on Daniel every now and then, watching the younger man’s fits and starts as he tried not to over-extend his injured wrist.

“You sure didn’t waste any time,” O’Neill finally commented, pulling his folded BDUs from the top of his locker and shrugging off his sweater. Teal’c had stepped into the adjoining room for a quick shower, leaving the two men alone.

“What?”

O’Neill glanced over his shoulder, watching as Daniel fastened the final pieces of his gear together, tightening down the straps.

“I said—“

“I heard what you said,” Daniel said, his clipped words interrupting O’Neill. “I’m just surprised by the comment. I thought you of all people would appreciate efficiency—especially when there’s a team missing.”

O’Neill could feel the flush of warmth on his face as he turned, his eyebrows drawing close, his forehead tight. “Me of all people? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daniel shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ll meet you in the Gate room in ten. Can’t keep the General waiting.”

Before O’Neill could say another word, the archeologist slipped out the door and into the hallway, leaving him standing shirtless in the locker room, his BDUs hanging from his hands.

This mission was going to be a pip.

Sighing, he turned around and tried to put his mind on the mission, on the missing scientists, but his thoughts kept circling back to Daniel’s words and the coldness behind them.

When Teal’c finally returned a few minutes later, O’Neill was nearly completely kitted up, his face set in a military mask. It was the only way to get through the mission—otherwise he might end up punching one arrogant archeologist. Although if it was the only way to get some sense into the man’s head…O’Neill shook the thought out of his mind. This was not the time or the place.

“Daniel Jackson is gone?”

O’Neill nodded once, tugging his tactical vest and clipping his P90 into place. “Yep. Headed to the Gate room already. How long you gonna be?”

“I shall be prepared momentarily,” Teal’c said, already pulling on his BDUs.

“Good,” O’Neill said, one hand on the door to the hallway. “I’m going to see if the General has any other information and I’ll meet you in ten.”

“I shall be there.”

“Great,” he said, pausing in the half-open doorway. “Make sure you grab Carter on the way.”

Teal’c inclined his head, a simple gesture that held tremendous respect and meaning. With his temper simmering just below the surface, O’Neill knew the little things—like the tilt of Teal’c’s head—went a long way in easing the pressure that was building in his head.

And it just emphasized the point that through everything, Teal’c was someone he could trust.

***

Twenty minutes later SG-1 was assembled in the embarkation room, minus one member—Jack.

Daniel paced at the bottom of the ramp, his arms crossed over his chest. Sam and Teal’c were off to the side waiting patiently, Sam double-checking her ordinance while Teal’c stood silently, his gaze sweeping around the room.

Looking into the control room for what seemed like the hundredth time, Daniel caught sight of Jack and the General deep in conversation as they walked down the stairs from the Level 27 briefing room. What was he doing with the General? A brief flutter filtered through his stomach, but he pushed it down. Instead, he pulled his attention away from the window and glanced at his watch again. What had happened to punctuality?

Jack appeared a few moments later, the large metal door sliding back as he strode in, finally stopping at the bottom of the ramp, a few feet from the archeologist. After a brief glance at Daniel, Jack turned, including Sam and Teal’c in his conversation. “Sorry about my tardiness. I wanted to make sure I had all the information from the General before heading out.” Jack looked up, obviously catching the General’s eye since the Stargate immediately started spinning, the chevrons locking into place one by one. “We’re ready, Sir.”

Following Jack’s gaze, Daniel watched as Hammond leaned down, his hand holding onto the microphone. “SG-1 you have a go. Bring them home.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jack said, turning his attention back to the team. “The General sent another MALP through about fifteen minutes ago to get a reading on what was going on around the gate. He’s going to have them scan the clearing again before we proceed through, but it seemed fine.”

“Now there’s concrete intel,” Daniel commented under his breath, but apparently loud enough for Jack to hear since the older man flicked his gaze to him, his eyes narrowing, but ignored the comment.

“The scientists hadn’t reported anything out of the ordinary during their last communication with the SGC,” Jack continued, the locking chevrons providing a backdrop to his words. “No large predators, no signs of human or Goa’uld habitation for that matter. The General was about ready to approve the establishment of a scientific outpost on P3S-295 before their missed communications.”

The ka-whoosh of the opening wormhole signaled an end to Jack’s short briefing. It really wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. Unlike some people, Daniel read his memos.

“SG-1, the MALP indicates the area around the Gate is clear. Good luck.”

O’Neill offered a partial salute to the General before turning on his heel and heading up the ramp, Sam and Teal’c not far behind.

Daniel sighed, but stepped in line, hard on Teal’c’s heels.

Things were going to change. He could feel it in the air and he was ready to follow wherever it led him.

***

The cold of the wormhole helped to bring Jack’s temper down a few degrees, but from the looks and the comments he was getting from Daniel it wasn’t going to take much to set him off. And on a rescue mission the last thing he needed was a smartass.

He knew that from first-hand experience.

Sliding down the stairs from the Stargate, O’Neill’s raised P90 tracked the edge of the clearing, the early morning sun filtering down through the leaves of the trees. The MALP sat in the middle of open area, just in front of the DHD. Three squishes behind him signaled the rest of his team’s arrival. A quick glance around showed them all moving into position, Daniel heading to the DHD with Carter and Teal’c scanning the clearing in much the same way he was.

Daniel gave a thumbs-up at the DHD while quick nods from Carter and Teal’c confirmed his initial assessment. O’Neill reached for his radio, depressing the button to report back to the SGC. “General, we have all clear and are proceeding to the camp site. We’ll report back in two hours.”

Hammond’s voice was clear through the earbud. “We’ll be waiting for your call. SGC out.”

The wormhole snapped shut, the blue tinge coating the closest trees changing to a more normal color.

“Carter, which way?”

A quick gesture with her head indicated the direction. “About an hour hike, Sir.”

“Teal’c, take point, then Daniel, Carter, and I’ll watch our six.”

The Jaffa nodded his consent and moved immediately to the path Carter had indicated, his staff weapon at the ready. Everyone else fell into line, the silence of the forest settling upon them.

The hike was not difficult, an easy trail over flat terrain, but there was something missing—and it was more than the easy companionship of friends.

There were no birds.

No insects.

No animals.

The trees and the plants were plentiful, but without the sounds of the forest—the birds crashing through the leaves, the local equivalent of squirrels scurrying through the undergrowth—something was missing.

O’Neill was surprised by the camp when they arrived. Instead of the usual small tents SG-1 normally traveled with, there were several temporary buildings set up—a bunk-house, a mess hall, storage, and a complete lab. When the General said they were about ready to approve the establishment of a scientific outpost here, he wasn’t kidding. Just moving all the crap back to the SGC would take a week.

The silence, though, was absolute.

“Everyone spread out. Let’s make sure no one’s home before we go crazy searching the area,” O’Neill ordered, watching as Carter and Teal’c moved to opposite ends of the camp. Daniel, on the other hand, hadn’t moved. What was it about civilian scientists?

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

Daniel caught his gaze, his blue eyes cold. “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir,” Daniel said, sarcasm dripping from every word. He turned as if to go, but hesitated, swiveling around to look back at O’Neill. “I noticed you’re very good at giving orders lately.”

O’Neill’s eyebrows drew close. “And that’s different than normal? This is a military operation, Daniel, and I am the commanding officer, if you haven’t already noticed.”

“Yeah,” he said glancing away, his eyes scanning the compound, “I’ve noticed.”

“Well, from the way you’ve been acting it seems like you’ve forgotten a lot.”

Daniel turned back to O’Neill, his eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

O’Neill shook his head, trying to get his growing temper under control. His hand slashed across the air in front of him. “Look, it isn’t the time or the place for this.”

“No, it’s not, but then again, there’s never a good time for anything that doesn’t fall into your personal set of preferred topics.”

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Maybe I’ve finally come to realize what’s important in my life.”

O’Neill’s voice dropped, words forced out through clenched teeth as he took several steps toward the archeologist. “What’s important? What do you think we’re doing? Do you think we’re out here for our health? Do you think that I enjoy losing people, good people, to the likes of the Goa’uld?”

“No, I know you don’t, but—“

“But what, Daniel? Right now, there’s a group of scientists who need our help. If you’re not going to start acting like a member of my team then you can hightail it right back to the gate and go home, because we have work to do.”

O’Neill paused, narrowing his eyes as he watched Daniel’s non-reaction. It actually looked like Daniel was considering his options, his eyes focused on something beyond Jack’s shoulder.

“Am I clear?”

It took a few moments before Daniel finally nodded once, albeit reluctantly. “Have it your way,” he replied and O’Neill could hear the unspoken words hanging between them.

‘You stupid son of a bitch.’

Daniel’s mouth tightened and he turned, heading down the path they’d hiked, the curving trail that led back to the Stargate.

At that moment, if Daniel had come anywhere within swinging distance of him, the rest of SG-1 would have found one unconscious archeologist flat on his back on the ground.

A brief flash through his mind nearly found him striding to grab Daniel’s arm, to stop him from going. He couldn’t just leave. They were already missing six scientists, the last thing they needed was to misplace an archeologist too.

But something stopped him from moving.

Daniel was a big boy. He could take care of himself. He’d been telling Jack that for years now. And you know what, Jack thought to himself as the younger man’s figure blended into the foliage, let him go back home. Have him explain why he left. Hammond would sure get a kick out of that.

Taking a deep breath, O’Neill forced himself to turn away from the path and the man striding away from him, focusing instead on the mission and the camp in front of him. He had a job to do and, unlike some people, he’d get it done.

***

Carter circled around the west side of the camp first, checking the perimeter as Teal’c headed east. The camp and planet were quiet, unusually noiseless. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of place—except for the missing scientists.

She spotted Teal’c out of the corner of her eye and she gestured, catching his attention. She pointed toward the door of the nearest portable shelter, indicating that she was going inside. He nodded once, and proceeded on, his staff weapon poised and ready.

Sliding into the hut, her eyes adjusted to the dim light. From an initial glance around, it looked as if she’d found their lab. Various pieces of equipment were placed throughout, papers and files covering most surfaces. She reached out, testing the switch on the nearest microscope, the little light shining immediately. She switched it off as she felt the muscles in her jaw tighten.

Whatever happened wasn’t sudden. They knew they were going—wherever it was—well enough in advance to turn off their equipment.

Moving closer, her fingers leafed through the nearest file, her eyes scanning their findings. High concentrations of minerals. Fertile soil. Moderate climate. Long growing season.

Moving from desk to desk, she skimmed the files, looking at their notes, trying to discover where they might be, where they might have gone.

Nothing jumped out at her as being unusual.

The opening door startled her, her head snapping up to watch as the Colonel entered followed by Teal’c.

“What did you find, Carter?” he asked, stopping on the other side of the table.

She shook her head. “Not much. They’ve been running standard environmental tests, as far as I can tell. It looks like Annette Wales and Mark Andrews headed up the biological studies. They’d spent a lot of time down by the river recently, about a half-hour walk from here. Collin Gibson and Naomi Dean spent a good amount of time in the caves just north of here, while Colonel Carpenter and William Page were filling in with supplementary tests and surveys in addition to making sure the SGC was kept abreast of their findings.” Glancing up, she met the Colonel’s brown eyes. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary about the planet or their reports.”

“Nothing about Sasquatch?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “No, Sir.”

His mouth set in a thin line and he glanced away, his eyes focusing on some of the equipment in the back of the room. Teal’c stood silently to his side, patiently waiting for his decision.

Daniel normally would have jumped in right about now. But, where was Daniel? Her eyes searched behind the Colonel until realization dawned: he wasn’t there.

“Sir?”

His head snapped back toward her, his eyebrows draw together. “Carter?”

“Where’s Daniel?”

“I, too, wish to know this information.”

If she hadn’t been looking, she would have missed it. Something had filtered across his face, a bevy of emotions, but they moved much too quickly for her to pinpoint any one of them. If she’d blinked, she would have missed the subtle changes in his demeanor.

His words, though, were not what she was expecting.

“Heading back to the gate.”

“Sir,” she began, not entirely sure how to continue. The air in the room had changed as well, tension building around the Colonel. “Is he okay? Is everything okay?”

“He’s fine,” he replied, much too quickly. “He thought it was best that he returned to the SGC.”

“I shall accompany him,” Teal’c said, already moving toward the door. “It is not safe for him to go alone.”

“Teal’c,” O’Neill said, his tone stopping the Jaffa mid-stride. “He’s fine and we have a mission to complete.”

“But, Sir, Teal’c has a point. We have no idea what happened to the scientists. Daniel shouldn’t be returning to the Stargate by himself. Let one of us walk back with him.“

“Absolutely out of the question. Have you forgotten why we’re here?”

“No, Sir, but I think—“

“Carter, your concerns are noted, but we don't have time to argue about this. I had to make a choice between six scientists or one archeologist. I don't like it anymore than you do, but other than physically restraining him, I had no choice but to let him go."

“But, Sir. Daniel—“

“Can take care of himself. He knows the risks. He knows the dangers. He knows the mission and he made the choice. Most of those scientists out there haven’t had a hell of a lot of off-world experience. I know Carpenter. He’s a good man. That team is in trouble and it’s up to us to find them.”

O’Neill’s gaze was penetrating, his tone deadly serious.

Before either her or Teal’c could react, however, a crackle echoed across their radios.

“Colonel O’Neill, do you read?”

The Colonel turned, thumbing the button on his radio. “Loud and clear, Sir.”

“What’s your status?”

“We’ve located the camp and nothing seems out of place. We’re going to spread out and see if we can find any sign of them. There’s a lot of ground to cover, so it’s going to take some time.”

She could hear the concern in the General’s voice. “Do you need additional teams?”

“Negative. We still need to do more recon before I can recommend sending additional personnel to the planet. We may still be dealing with nothing more than the usual absent-minded scientists."

“Understood,” Hammond replied. “Report in when you have more information. I’ll have SG-3 and 5 standing by. If we haven’t heard from you in six hours we’ll make radio contact.”

“Understood. SG-1 niner out.”

O’Neill turned back to them, his brown eyes deep and Carter could swear that she saw the gears grinding away in his mind. “Carter, I want you and Teal’c to follow Wales and Andrews’ footsteps to the river. Check out the surrounding area. I’m going to head north and take a look at the cave system, starting on the western end. When you finish up at the river work your way back to meet me. Keep in radio contact.”

Carter nodded once. If only Daniel had stayed the Colonel wouldn’t be forced to search on his own.

“Understood, O’Neill. We will endeavor to journey swiftly so as to return in a prompt manner.”

“Don’t hurry on my account, Teal’c,” O’Neill said, pausing in his movement to the door. Something filtered across his face again, the emotion gone as quickly as it came. “The scientists need our best. Let’s give it to them.”

***

Daniel stood up, taking a final drink from his canteen before fastening it to his waist. He’d stopped to rest against a large rock adjacent to the trail when he heard the General’s voice, a gentle stab of doubt shooting through his mind.

That only lasted until he heard Jack’s voice.

Everything about it set his teeth on edge. Jack’s condescending comments about scientists didn’t make him jump for joy either.

Rolling his shoulders to ease the tension in his muscles, he started moving again, continuing his leisurely stroll back to the gate. He wasn’t in any particular hurry and, honestly, he wasn’t sure what he was going to tell the General when he got there.

‘Well, Sir, Jack ticked me off and told me I could go home,’ didn’t seem like the best explanation.

He should have a draft of his resignation letter around somewhere. He’d been plucking away at it lately. Apparently his unconscious mind had made this decision a while ago and his conscious mind was just catching up now.

Maybe he’d be able to go back to Egypt and continue some of the work he sorely missed. His welcome back into the archeological world might be a little rocky, but after dealing with the Goa’uld, he could handle just about anything. He’d be away from the front lines, away from the life and death decisions that marred every waking moment.

Low chatter over the radio pulled his attention away from his internal musings, his left hand immediately turning the volume back up so he could hear.

“…clear. Teal’c and I are going to scout a little more by the river, but there’s no sign of them anywhere.”

“I copy. These mountains seem to be infested with caves. If they’re in here they could be just about anywhere. I’m—“

A scuffle over the radio melded into a thump before silence echoed over the line.

“Sir?” Carter’s voice held a hit of anxiety, which only increased with each additional syllable. “Sir? What happened? Sir?”

“—damn rocks. You know what’s a good idea, Carter? I think they should outlaw rocks on planets.”

Humor colored Sam’s next words and Daniel could picture the half-smile on her face. “Are you okay, Sir?”

“Fine. Nothing more than a bruised ego and some scrapes and bruises. And this…dust…gets into everything.” Jack coughed once before he could click off the microphone, coming back on a few beats later. “Take a good look around the river and then head back to my position. The caves are going to take a lot longer than I originally anticipated.”

“Should we call for back-up, Sir?”

“How much more daylight do we have?”

“Not much,” she admitted, her tone a little distracted. “I’d say another few hours at the most.”

“Negative then. It’ll take the teams too long to get here. Let’s rendezvous in an hour at the camp instead and we can plan our strategy for tomorrow. It might pay to get Hammond to send the UAV. Even though there’s a lot of plant-growth, it should be able to pick up the scientists if they decided to go on a field trip.”

Daniel turned the sound back down low as Sam acknowledged Jack’s orders. They were working well without him, like a well-oiled machine.

They wouldn’t miss him.

That bothered him—more than he wanted to admit.

They’d been a team. Friends, even. What had happened? When had things begun to change? Could he pinpoint the exact moment when things had changed, when things had become about fifteen degrees off-center?

He sighed again, his thoughts deep and dark. Casting his eyes ahead, the Stargate rose into view, the foliage thinning as he approached the clearing, The DHD appeared as he rounded the final corner.

Thinking back, Daniel realized that it had been a gradual decay, his tensions with Jack growing until they enveloped everyone, everything he did, everything he said, everything he saw.

But now, standing before the DHD, his hands hesitated over the glyphs.

Was he really being fair to the team, to the scientists?

He looked at his watch before casting a glance at the sky. It was already starting to darken, the afternoon quickly rushing into twilight. He could make it back to the camp before night completely claimed the landscape.

But did he want to?

Why should his issues with Jack affect Sam and Teal’c? They didn’t do anything to him, in fact, they’d been supportive, his constant companions. It wasn’t the scientists’ fault that Jack was an ass.

His hands dropped to his side and he sighed, but he already knew that his mind was made up.

He turned, his feet sure against the uneven ground.

The time slipped away as he moved, the fast encroaching darkness slowing his progress. Two unanswered calls to Jack quickly turned to four. Each passing minute stretched out before him, yet slipped away faster than he could count.

Something had happened. He knew it in his bones.

After the fifth call, Daniel raised his hand to the radio, his chilled fingers struggling to find the button as his body continued to move. “Sam? What happened?”

The surprise in her voice was expected, but it hurt nonetheless.

“Daniel? I thought…the Colonel said…where are you?”

“I’m hiking back to the camp, probably about three-quarters of the way there,” he answered, stepping over a branch that stretched across the trail. He waited a few beats, wondering if she was going to speak again. “Sam?”

“Sorry. Teal’c’s walking out to meet you and he’s bringing a bigger flashlight. You’re going to need it.”

The worry in her voice nearly sent his stomach into back flips. “Sam, what happened to Jack?”

Her soft exhale carried over the channel. “We don’t know. He’s not here and he’s not answering our radio calls. It could just be interference…”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No.”

“What was he doing off by himself?” Daniel found himself asking, the words falling from his lips. At Sam’s hesitation, he knew the answer instantly. He heard the confirmation in the tone of her reply.

“His job.”

The same words that hung between him and Jack now hovered on the air once again, this time aimed in his direction.

‘You stupid son of a bitch.’

He was speechless.

If Jack were here, Daniel knew what he’d say. Something about turn-about being fair play and all.

And for once, Daniel would have to agree.

***

Even with the bigger flashlight he’d swiped from the camp, the tunnels were still dark, the dust clinging to every surface. His knee ached from where he’d tripped and fallen over the stupid small stalagmite in the middle of the floor. He’d ripped the material of his BDUs open and given himself a nice sized gash that seemed to have stopped bleeding, but his leg and knee still hurt, the residual ache reminding him that he wasn’t as young as he wanted to remember.

And it seemed as if he couldn’t get the dust out of his lungs.

The cave system was larger than he originally thought, the passages curving, angling up and down, forcing him deeper into the mountain. He’d lost count of the number of tunnels he’d searched, reaching the end before turning around and backtracking to the entrance and starting again on another one.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling in various shapes and sizes while hundreds of stalagmites rose up from the surface of the cave floor to meet them. In some places he’d had to squeeze to continue on to the end of the tunnel only to turn around and trudge back, wiggling through a space that he swore had gotten smaller.

He coughed again, for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes. Even after a few swigs from his canteen, it wasn’t getting any better.

The passage he was in this time was different than the others. Moving steadily, the floor had sloped downward sharply at first before finally leveling out, his free hand finding purchase against the wall, guiding him, the coating of dust and dirt getting thicker with each step.

He’d stood in the middle of several intersecting passages, holding the wall for support as he coughed, taking a few minutes to decide which way to go. He picked one finally, shoving himself off the rocks, his flashlight’s beam cutting through the darkness.

In any other instance wandering through these caves would be fun. Looking for misplaced scientists wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

The first passage he picked dead-ended where the stalactites and stalagmites had joined, forming a wall that blocked his way. Using the tip of his P90, he enlarged a small hole on the side of the corridor, opening it enough to shine the flashlight through. From what he could see—mainly the thick plume of dirt and dust in the air, floating in the beam of his flashlight—it looked like the passage continued on but there was no need for him to look any further. The scientists were not here.

Turning around yet again he returned to the crossroads of passages, his feet making the next choice. Twice more he picked paths before finally returning to that same intersection and the last passage.

The floor sloped downward once again, sharply in places, the loose dirt under his boots making it slippery. Bracing himself against the wall, he placed his feet precisely before shifting his weight, easing down the incline.

Movement in the corner of his eye distracted him and he lost his footing, barely recovering before he stumbled and fell. Squinting into the darkness, he tried to figure out what he’d seen, but there was nothing there.

Darkness played weird tricks on your eyes.

Shaking his head, he focused instead on his exploration, calculating how much further he had to go. Shining the flashlight forward he could just make out the end of the passage and the point where it leveled off.

He wasn’t expecting the feeling of movement under his boots.

***

By the time Daniel and Teal’c stumbled back into camp it was dark and the wind had picked up. It wasn’t much warmer in the tent, however—and Daniel wasn’t talking temperature either.

Sam eyed him from across the room before returning to the papers she was reading. Stepping in further, the Jaffa slid around him, laying the flashlight and his staff weapon on one of the large tables.

Wiping his hands on his pants, Daniel didn’t think he’d been so uncomfortable in his life.

Walking closer to one of the desks, he leaned against it, fingering the papers cluttering its surface. He knew she should probably say something, anything to break the silence, but he didn’t know where to begin or how to explain. How do you apologize for letting your friends down, for being an idiot?

“Sam?” he began, the word hesitant. She stiffened at the sound of his voice, her shoulders tensing. A few moments passed before she glanced up at him, her eyes hard.

“What, Daniel?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Her tone was uncompromising.

Teal’c approached silently, his gaze lingering on both him and Sam. His tone, while somber, was not accusatory. “What has occurred between you and O’Neill?”

Daniel sighed, his eyes dropping to the page his fingers were playing with, rolling the corner, bending and folding it. “It’s a long story.”

He could hear the Jaffa shift beside him and Daniel glanced up. He could feel his eyes widening as his friend seated himself carefully on a nearby stool, his body relaxed. “I believe we have the time you require.”

“Shouldn’t we be looking for Jack?”

“If you haven’t noticed, Daniel, it’s dark,” Sam commented, moving closer to where Teal’c was perched. “Stumbling around in unfamiliar terrain is not exactly a bright idea.”

“But isn’t there something we can do?”

“We are doing something. Unless you’re willing to hike back to the Stargate to dial up the SGC, it makes more sense to stay here and wait for General Hammond to dial in, which should only be a few hours from now.”

“Oh.”

“Therefore we have sufficient time for your lengthy tale.”

Daniel sighed, his fingers shoving up his glasses to squeeze the bridge of his nose. Letting his hand drop, he glanced back and forth between his friends. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

Sam moved closer, her jaw tight, her eyes flashing with an anger he knew he deserved. “Why did you walk, Daniel? You knew we had a mission. The scientists are depending on us.”

“I was angry,” Daniel replied, the words falling from his mouth. “Jack can be such an ass.”

Sam crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing. “While I admit that the Colonel can be difficult at times to deal with, being angry with him is no reason to walk away from a mission.”

“I know,” Daniel muttered, unable to hold her gaze.

“But you stormed off in a huff leaving him—us—to find the scientists. And because you weren’t here the Colonel was forced to search by himself. And where does that leave us now? One Colonel short, that’s where.”

“It’s not my fault that Jack got lost—“

“Lost? He could be lying in a heap somewhere for all we know. There could have been a cave-in. Anything could have happened, but we can’t look for him until morning because we don’t have the right equipment. How exactly do you plan on explaining all of this to General Hammond?”

“I don’t know!” Daniel yelled back, his anger finally finding some release. “If Jack wasn’t so impulsive—“

“Impulsive? Since when did the Colonel become impulsive about a rescue mission? Since when does he walk away when someone is in trouble? He works his ass off protecting people.”

The unspoken words ‘like you’ hung in the air.

“But that’s just it, Sam. When will Jack start to put some trust in me? He always second-guesses my decisions. He never trusts me to do my job. He treats me no better than a child.”

“Apparently he’s right on the money because that’s how you’ve been acting. If the Colonel didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be on the team—end of story.”

“Daniel Jackson, O’Neill trusts your judgment implicitly,” Teal’c said, his voice a drastic contrast to the high emotions running through the room. “I agree with Major Carter. If O’Neill did not trust you or value your opinion, he would have found a replacement for you on SG-1.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Daniel said, the Jaffa’s words giving him time to breathe, to get his emotions under control. “I mean, look at what happened with Reese. If he’d trusted me, if he’d just given me a little more time…He didn’t have to kill her.”

“Daniel Jackson, we were losing the battle against the replicators. Had O’Neill delayed SGC personnel would have perished. There was no room for error. O’Neill acted as he should. There was no other choice to make.”

“She was shutting them down.”

Sam shook her head. “No, Daniel. They were starting to act on their own. The Colonel did his job and saved the mountain, and most likely the planet.”

Daniel sighed and turned away, shaking his head.

“Do you disagree, Daniel Jackson?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You military types all think alike.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and it took her a moment to find her voice. “Us military types? You of all people should know better than to generalize since you’re the one who’s always complaining about how narrow-minded people can be when they do just that.” Sam’s eyes narrowed and she leaned in. Daniel felt a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but refused to back down, to move. “Is that the real problem then? Are you jealous?”

“No!” Daniel exclaimed immediately, but lowered his voice as he continued. ”Of course not. Why is it that anything we don’t understand we kill? Why do we always have to resort to violence? We could have learned so much from Reese, but we’ll never get an opportunity now. Jack made sure of that.” Daniel paused only long enough to draw another breath before plowing on. “And it’s more than just that one incident with Reese. Jack was going to blow up Lotan and the entire Gadmeer civilization just because he didn’t have a better solution. What kind of a plan is that? And Sam, he killed you for all intents and purposes when that entity had taken over your body. But what does Jack get? A pat on the back and a resounding ‘thank you, job well done’.” Daniel knew that if sarcasm were visible, it would be pouring from his lips.

“Daniel, you know in every instance that there was good reason for the Colonel to act the way he did,” Sam’s voice was hard, but had lost some of its anger. “But you also seem to forget the number of times he’s trusted you, relied upon you. In the case of the Gadmeer, setting that bomb to explode—knowing you were on that ship—it was the hardest thing he had to do. He had no way to know if you’d be able to talk sense into Lotan—“

“He should have trusted me.”

“He didn’t have a choice but to follow through with his plan. He had no idea what was going on up there. If you hadn’t been able to convince Lotan to stop the ship, the Enkarans would have been wiped out of existence. Yes, everything worked out in the end, but your actions undermined the Colonel’s authority. And do you know what your actions said to me or to anyone looking on for that matter? That you didn’t trust him to do to his job, to do the right thing. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to make those kinds of decisions—decisions that affect people’s lives?”

Daniel glanced away, unable to bear her heavy stare. Sam, however, wasn’t finished.

“Did he stop you from going on a nearly suicidal mission to the System Lord’s summit meeting? No, instead he fought long and hard to make sure you were safe, to make sure that you had a way to get home if things went bad. He trusted that you would be able to get the job done. If he didn’t trust you, he wouldn’t have let you leave the SGC. I think it’s time that you got your head out of your ass and started paying attention.”

She paused for a moment, taking a breath and letting it out slowly. “I also think that you should cut him some slack. He’s only human, Daniel, just like you. He does the best he can. And if our track record as a team is anything to go by, I know he’s the one I’d want watching my six when things got tough. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’ll do everything in his power, anything it takes, to make sure everyone gets home alive—even if it means pain on his part. You might want to consider that before you go pointing your finger at him again, accusing him of not trusting you, of being anything less than the honorable man he is.”

Maybe the fault wasn’t all on Jack’s side. Perhaps, just perhaps, some of the blame rested with him. Sam obviously interpreted Jack’s actions differently and despite his words to the contrary, Daniel really didn’t dump Sam into the typical military mold.

Sam’s jaw was set, the muscles tight, although her eyes held a note of sorrow that nearly broke his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was to let her down, to let the team down. She was right; he’d been an ass. And standing here, in the middle of a temporary lab set up on an alien planet halfway across the galaxy from Earth, he knew how wrong he’d been, how shortsighted he’d become.

He needed time to think, to mull over the things she’d said. And then, if he decided that she was right, he had some apologizing to do. And even if Jack still deserved part of the blame, was it cause enough to lose a friendship, one that had been built up over time, over years? Because Jack was a friend—something Daniel had forgotten in his anger, a good friend, and one that he had let down. But even as realization swept over him, shame rose up from within, mixed with feelings of desperation.

They had to find him. He had to talk to him, to set things straight between the two of them.

But what if he didn’t get the chance? What if they couldn’t find him? What if they found him and it was too late?

The possibility of never seeing his friend again nearly sent him reeling to his knees. That couldn’t happen. There had to be something they could do here and now to ensure that he’d get the chance to talk to him later.

“Sam,” Daniel began, his voice hesitant, soft in the silence that had settled over them. “Is there anything we can do before the General calls? What do we know about the caves?”

She shrugged slightly, running a hand through her short blonde hair. “While I was waiting for Teal’c to come back with you, I’d started going through the scientists’ notes, trying to find a note, a clue, anything that could shed some light on what was going on.”

“Are you looking for something specific?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m just looking for anything that might indicate what they thought was in there, but there’s a lot of paper to get through.”

“What do you say I put on some coffee and we put our heads together and start looking?” Daniel suggested, hoping that she’d take his version of an olive branch.

She stood for a minute, her gaze resting gently on his face before nodding once. Her eyes slid to Teal’c for a moment before returning to him. “I’d like that and I know just where you can start.”

“Great,” Daniel smiled, a feeling of relief settling down on him momentarily. He’d straightened one thing out. Now he just needed the opportunity to finish the rest. “Let’s get started.”

***

‘What the…’ Jack thought as the dirt beneath his boot moved. He glanced down and could feel his eyes widen as he watched the dirt crawl up his foot, circle over his ankle, and continue north up his leg.

Normally, dirt didn’t do that.

It was right about then that commonsense exited stage right.

It seemed like a good idea when it popped into his mind, but the execution of the idea was somewhat lacking. Shifting his weight to his left leg, Jack lifted his right foot in an attempt to shake the dirt free.

That, however, only seemed to make it worse.

He started to backpedal, trying to get up the slope, but it felt as if the dirt was making his legs heavy. Trying to scramble backwards, he tried to move, but the dirt under his feet kept sliding away, as if it were running water, his grip on the wall the only thing keeping him upright.

Aiming his flashlight backwards he glanced over his shoulder, trying to judge how much further he had to go before he reached the top, but the particles caught in the beam had thickened, the dust heavy in the air.

For a moment, he thought the dust was swarming, like it was some kind of sentient life form. His chuckle turned to a cough.

It was then that his feet slipped out from under him.

In an effort to slow his descent, he tried to dig in his heels, but nothing was working right. His legs felt numb and unresponsive, his arms and hands feeling leaden. Each passing breath was harder to take as the dirt and dust from his headlong flight to the bottom of the slope kicked it high into the air.

Hitting a bump, he started to tumble, head over heels, down becoming up and up down. With each and every contact he made with the ground, scrapes and bruises were added to the total, the numbers rising exponentially.

The stalagmite at the bottom stopped him cold, the crack in its side showing green—a crack Jack didn’t see.

With his breath knocked out, he laid on the ground in a heap for several minutes trying to pull oxygen into his burning lungs. But with each successive inhalation came a series of coughs, each deeper than the next.

Movement of the dirt under his body propelled him to his feet and he stood there swaying as he tried to regain his senses in the dark, his large flashlight lost in his tumble.

Searching his vest, his hands finally latched onto the smaller flashlight he always carried and switched it on, grateful it worked.

What he saw, though, surprised him.

He was in a huge hall, a cavern surrounded by hundreds and thousands of stalagmites and stalactites, in all shapes and sizes. His feet dragging, he pushed himself forward, searching for another way out, but it was hard and he was tired.

He pointed the light downward, toward the ground that was still moving under his boots.

The dirt—non-dirt or whatever—had shifted higher finding the tear in his BDUs and was sliding against his bare skin, numbing it wherever it went. He was already losing feeling in his hands, the fingers going numb where they were exposed to the air. His neck and face were in a similar state.

The little buggers were getting into everything.

He could feel them traveling down his shirt, crawling down his spine.

He was covered in them.

The ones that weren’t on his skin were coating his uniform in a thick beige crust.

He was tired.

He’d stopped moving, he realized, several minutes ago. But even as he felt parts of his body go numb, his mind was clearing.

His P90 was gone, lost somewhere in the caves. It was the dust, the dirt, that caused this. It was sentient, it had to be.

He had to tell his team, they had to know.

Forcing his free hand upward, one inch at a time, he aimed for his radio, a radio his fumbling fingers discovered was not there.

Another thing lost, dropped somewhere in the tunnels; his only link with the outside world gone.

The flashlight dropped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a thump as the light dimmed and then extinguished.

But even in the dark he could still feel them moving.

***

Daniel’s eyes were starting to cross. Reading pages and pages of scientific reports—most of which he didn’t understand—made him want to gouge his eyes out. Must be the same reaction Jack has to memos and staff reports.

Sliding his glasses up onto his forehead, he rubbed his hands across his face, trying to wipe some of the cobwebs away. They’d been pouring through everything in the room—from reports to computer files to scribbled notes on napkins—and nothing significant had popped up. They could spend weeks here and they’d hardly put a dent in it.

How could six scientists make so much paper?

Teal’c had gotten up a few minutes ago to take a walk around the perimeter of the camp. They’d set up the lights earlier, illuminating everything, with the thought that if any of the scientists or Jack were lost, they’d be able to spot the camp from miles away.

Sam had sectioned off the main lab into three zones, each of them responsible for everything within that area. Somehow, Daniel had gotten stuck with a good portion of the geological and environmental data, which he though couldn’t be that difficult to understand.

How wrong he’d been.

From what he could gather, Wales and Andrews hadn’t concentrated on any particular section of the planet, instead choosing to do a general survey of the area from the river to the foothills of the mountains.

Compared to Earth, things were different from the apportion of minerals in the soil to the nutrients in the air and water. Even the sunlight had its own characteristics.

An initial survey of the caves and tunnels had shown an increase in mineral concentration and an unusually rich soil base, some of which had been brought back for closer study. A complaint about the lack of moisture in the caves was noted twice by Wales and attributed to the altitude of the mountain range. The notes also indicated that Wales had planned further investigation of the caves and mountains, but there was no record as to whether it was followed-up up or not.

An aerial survey of the planet was going to be part of their next step in mapping the area, a request penciled in for the next communication with the SGC along with additional equipment—a report that was never made.

“Sam,” Daniel said, shifting to glance across the room at his teammate who was similarly slumped in her chair. “Anything?”

She shook her head, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as she stretched to get some of the kinks out. “Nothing, at least nothing that looks menacing or dangerous. For all intents and purposes this is an average, boring nondescript planet.”

Daniel chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, one that eats scientists and Colonels for breakfast.”

Before Sam could comment, however, a crackle over the radios quickly pulled their attention to the little box sitting on the table. “SG-1, this is Hammond, do you read?”

Reaching over, Sam snagged the radio, pressing the button to activate it as he brought it up to her mouth. “Carter here, Sir.”

“Major, where’s Colonel O’Neill?”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, but her voice was steady when she spoke the words they were all dreading, the words that made it all real. “Missing, Sir.”

“Missing? What happened?” Teal’c entered the lab on the heels of Hammond’s words, his eyes meeting Daniel’s, a silent shake of his head indicating that nothing had changed outside.

“We’d split up to cover more ground and the Colonel missed a radio contact. By the time we got back to camp it was too dark to start looking for him. We have to wait until first light before we can begin again since we don’t have the right equipment.”

“What do you need, Major?”

“Complete search-and-rescue gear. We’re fearing the worst since the Colonel was investigating the nearby caves.”

“I remember Colonel Carpenter mentioning them in a recent report. Are you thinking cave-in?”

“It’s possible, Sir. There’s no interference to speak of, so the Colonel would answer his radio if he were able. You might want to send Doctor Fraiser.”

“Negative. Unfortunately, SG-2 encountered some hostiles during a recent recon and she’s up to her eyeballs treating them. I’ll send SG-8 along with SG-3, instead. SG-5 can remain here unless you think an additional team will be necessary.”

“I don’t think so, General.”

“I’ll have the teams prepare for departure. How quickly do you need them deployed?”

“It’s pointless to send them now since they’ll just be stumbling around in the dark. First light would be a better option, Sir, which should be in about six hours. From the scientist’s notes the days are shorter here.”

“Understood, Major. Anything else?”

“General,” Daniel interrupted. “Would it be possible to get an UAV launched? We might be able to get a better idea on their location from the bio sensor on the UAV. It might help point us in the right direction.”

“Major, do you agree with Doctor Jackson?”

“I think it’s a good idea, but I’m worried that if they’re within the caves the sensors might not be able to penetrate the rock.”

“I’ll have Major Warren take a look at the reports the scientists sent back to see what he recommends. Either way, reinforcements will be coming to you in six hours. Get some rest people. Hammond out.”

As the radio fell silent, Daniel glanced between his friends, the finality of their situation crashing down around him. At least with SG-8 on the way whoever they found would be in good medical hands and Major Warren was nearly as bad as Jack when it came to sheer stubbornness.

They’d find him and the scientists. They had to.

Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.

***

It was strange.

This disembodied feeling of floating was peculiar.

He knew he was standing, yet couldn’t feel his feet.

He knew he was breathing, yet he couldn’t feel the rise and fall of his chest.

Even if it wasn’t dark, pitch black in reality, his world had become reduced to what he could barely hear. For a while, he’d been able to feel the movement on his neck and face as the crust of dirt or dust or whatever it was had continued to build, layer by layer.

He could still hear himself breathe, however.

But even that was slowing, each breath more shallow than the one before.

He was dying.

Bit by bit, piece by peace.

He knew it was true, he could feel it in his heart and his soul.

Soon the layers would be too thick to allow even the passage of air and his inhalations would stop.

And on that final exhale he would make his peace—with himself and with the universe.

But until that time he would wait and listen to the slow breaths that kept him alive, as he became one more addition to the cavern, a landmark of the most fragile kind.

***

A clamor in the camp quickly roused Daniel from an uneasy sleep, his eyes squinting at his wristwatch in an effort to see the time.

What was going on at the god-awful hour of four in the morning?

Swinging his feet off the bed and sitting up, Daniel rubbed a hand across his face and reached for his glasses with his left hand, placing them lightly on his nose. A quick glance around the bunk tent revealed it empty.

Had something happened?

Stumbling to his feet, grateful for the three hours of sleep he’d gotten but knowing that it wasn’t enough, he shoved open the door into the darkness outside.

Another glance at his watch confirmed the time, but as he rounded the corner he discovered members of SG teams three, five, and eight loitering outside the main laboratory tent surrounded by piles of gear and two FREDs piled with more equipment.

Someone wasn’t taking any chances.

And they were early, very early.

He heard his name and vaguely saw an arm waving him over. Apparently, he’d been spotted.

Smiling hesitatingly, he picked up the pace a little. As he got closer Lieutenant John Peterson stepped away from the crowd, one of the members of SG-3.

“Doctor Jackson, did we wake you?” Peterson said, apologizing as he approached.

Daniel glanced around again, his eyes lingering on the people and the equipment that were littering their once pristine camp. “Kind of, but that’s okay. What are you doing here? I thought the General was only sending three and eight in two hours from now.”

“We had a briefing and once word got around Colonel Harper insisted that SG-5 accompany us. He stayed at the Gate along with Lieutenant Austin. It didn’t take us long to get the extra gear together, so we decided not to wait.”

“So you left.”

“Yep. The General’s sending the UAV through at first light so we should be able to set up the equipment to monitor the readings from here. I think Major Carter is hooking it up right now.”

Daniel didn’t know what to say, so he settled for something simple. “Do you know if there’s coffee anywhere?”

Peterson smiled. “Inside the mess hall. I think Bosco started KP duty as soon as he walked into camp.”

“You mean there’s food?” Daniel asked, pausing only a few steps away from the Lieutenant.

“Of course. But I should warn you, Bosco makes some mean coffee. Puts hair on your chest.”

“Trust me. It can’t be worse than Jack’s and I drink that on a regular basis. This’ll be gourmet. And who thought that Starbucks had set up a store here.”

Smiling for the first time in days, he sauntered into the mess tent, a feeling of elation settling over him.

This was going to work.

Jack was as good as rescued.

Finally, plan A was working.

***

It was quiet.

Very quiet.

And dark. He couldn’t forget about the darkness.

At least this time he couldn’t hear the gnawing of the rats or the clicking of the cockroaches’ feet.

And he was pain-free, a blissful state of non-being.

It was better this way.

And soon he’d sleep.

***

Glancing up from the computer she’d finally finished tying into one of the workstations, Sam saw Daniel enter, fully kitted up and ready to go.

The UAV was to be launched from the SGC in fifteen minutes and the first of the search teams were ready to depart.

It had been a busy morning since Teal’c had gotten the call from Major Warren, stealing in to wake her as they neared the camp. He had seen the benefits even a small amount of sleep on humans because of his close association with them over the past several years. She was thankful of his thoughtfulness and had gotten right to work when they’d arrived.

An hour ago, the Major had approached her, asking what her orders were.

She’d been a little taken aback, figuring Lieutenant Colonel Harper would be calling the shots, but the Major explained that Hammond had made it clear that she was in charge of the rescue mission.

She was pleasantly surprised, but the weight of the decisions that had to be made settled heavily on her.

The first team would depart just prior to the UAV’s release, heading directly for the Colonel’s last known location. Teal’c and Daniel had insisted on going and she hadn’t argued. Instead, she decided to send Lieutenants Peterson and Collins along with them.

Huddled in the corner, Sam watched Daniel weave his way through the lab. His steps were sure but she could see tenseness in his frame. For a moment she saw him as she had last night—slumped at the desk, sighs falling from his lips, his thoughts a loud distraction.

But as quickly as that memory came it was gone, replaced instead by the Daniel who would single-mindedly search out the nearest pot of strong coffee, who would go to the ends of the Earth to find a friend.

Right now was not the time for ruminations or doubts. Now was the time to focus on the living and the lost.

“Sam,” he called, noticing for the first time that she was watching him cross the floor.

“You about ready to go?” she asked, straightening her back, rising to her feet, and stepping around to the front of the desk. She needed to move, to stretch.

“Yeah, we’re about ready to move out. Teal’c’s going to bring one of the FREDs packed full with some of the gear we might need. He thought it would be easier than carting it all the way.”

Sam nodded. “Great. I figured he’d do that.”

Daniel eyed her for a minute, his blue eyes measuring her, before continuing. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?”

If she had her choice she would go, but someone needed to monitor the UAV and she was the one with the best qualifications. “I’m sure. I’ll join the second team in a few hours once the MALP gets some readings. Make sure you keep in radio contact.”

“We will. We’re expecting you to lead us right to him you know.”

“I’ll do my best, Daniel,” Sam said, the tone of her voice dropping.

“I know you will, but don’t worry. We’ll find him, alive and well. Knowing Jack, he just got turned around. He’ll probably walk into the camp minutes after we leave.”

“I wish that were the case, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Daniel sighed, his gaze shifting away from her face. “I know, but it doesn’t hurt to wish it, right?”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said, pausing for several beats, her own thoughts and doubts threatening to overtake her. “Good luck. Bring him home.”

***

It was interesting. He’d always thought that when the time finally came for him to go, it would be louder.

He’d always pictured his death on a field somewhere in the jungles of Asia or on the sand dunes of the Middle East. That had changed when he’d been assigned to the SGC.

Then it was to be an explosion on a planet far, far away. Another loud and painful way to die.

And then, with each passing day and mission, the possibilities of different types of deaths were opened to him.

Shot by a staff weapon-wielding Jaffa.

Two taps from a zat.

Accidental friendly fire in the heat of battle.

Blowing up a Goa’uld mothership with no way off.

Going up in a blaze of smoke and fire as the cargo ship was blown to kingdom come.

A knife in the gut.

Being eaten alive as replicator bugs swarmed over him.

The smell of sizzling flesh as a System Lord’s ribbon device bored a hole in his head.

An attack of unfriendly natives that he did not survive.

Trampled by a horde of alien elephants.

He could go on, he knew, with more and more versions of his death, some more extraordinary than the next.

Yet all of the situations he envisioned were loud, unlike this time.

This time it was quiet, the slowing sound of his breathing his only companion.

It was more peaceful this way.

And it wasn’t so bad.

***

The hike to the foothills of the mountains where the caves began was a quiet affair, each member of the team wrapped up in their own thoughts, their own concerns and worries.

For Daniel, every step brought him closer to his friend and the possibility that they might not find him alive. Hope was fading fast under the thick gloom of clouds hanging above their heads.

He tried to keep an ember alive, continually fanning it, keeping it burning, for once that tiny flame diminished there would truly be nothing left.

Peterson was quiet as he walked abreast of Daniel, the young man's face was dark and brooding and he made no effort to offer up his thoughts or feelings for conversation. If Peterson's thoughts were as dark as Daniel suspected, perhaps it was for the best that they didn't speak at all.

To Daniel’s eye, it seemed little, if any, hope remained with him.

Teal’c’s determination, however, burned bright as he led them forward, his feet sure against the broken ground, his course never straying, his stride never hesitating.

Jack was like that.

He instilled faith and confidence in the men he led, which was ever more in evidence in the teams who had appeared in their doorstep early this morning. They were here to find Jack. In a certain sad way, finding the scientists had become a secondary goal, a secondary mission.

Jack would never have stood for that. For Jack, others always came first.

But even now, hiking as part of a rescue team in search of a wayward Colonel, Daniel’s goal was clear and his motives personal. To him, they needed to find Jack—come hell or high water.

A raised hand from Teal’c made them pause. He tilted his head to the side, listening into the wind.

A few minutes passed before he waved them forward and Daniel picked up the pace until he was striding alongside his friend.

“What was it?”

“I am uncertain. The foothills of these mountains are concealing something.”

“What?”

“I am uncertain,” Teal’c said turning his head slightly and Daniel caught the hint of humor in his eyes. ”They are concealing it.”

Jaffa jokes, something he had yet to understand. “How much farther?”

Teal’c pointed ahead of them, past a clearing of trees. “I believe O’Neill began his search at the caves just past this rise. He is most methodical in his methods in instances such as these.”

“You mean there’s a method to his madness?”

This time Teal’c didn’t pretend not to comprehend the meaning of his words, the backward jab at an absent friend. “I do not understand why you insist in tearing down O’Neill. Does not every word you use against him also fall upon you? Did you not choose O’Neill as a friend? Does not that speak badly of your judgment in the matter? You might be well advised to adjust your perception of him prior to his discovery.”

“But I do trust—“ Daniel began to say, but Teal’c increased his pace, leaving the archeologist speaking to himself. Time to continue this discussion, however, was over as the entrance to the caves came into view. Teal’c paused at the mouth off one of them, his staff weapon at the ready.

“Lieutenant Peterson, accompany Daniel Jackson down the passage on the right. Lieutenant Collins, you will accompany me.”

Both of the Lieutenants moved quickly to comply while Daniel stood off to the side, watching the dance in a different way than he had before. He could see the decision of who to send with whom weighing heavily on the Jaffa, but that did not hamper his movements. Instead, it seemed to add a seriousness, a confidence that Daniel hadn’t bother to look for previously. Was it the same with Jack?

“Doctor Jackson?” Peterson was standing at his side, a puzzled look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that Collins and Teal’c had already entered their designated search area after the young Lieutenant had parked the FRED at the mouth of the cave. “Was thinking about something. And please call me Daniel.”

“Yes, Sir—eh, Daniel,” Peterson stumbled over the words, but added a sincere smile at the end. “Sorry. Habits die hard.”

“I know how it can be.”

Switching on their flashlights, Daniel and Peterson entered the passage, their beams scanning the walls and the floor before them. Dust particles danced before their eyes, caught in the light, gracefully floating along the currents in the air.

Moving forward, they kept up a consistent pace, slow and steady, making sure not one inch of the cave was missed.

The sound of Sam’s voice nearly made Daniel drop his flashlight. “Carter to search party, do you read?”

“Affirmative, Major Carter,” Teal’c replied, his thick voice carrying loudly over the radio.

“The UAV is in the air and is heading toward the mountain range. It should be over your position in a few minutes. So far there is no evidence of any life signs.”

“Understood.”

“Any signs of the Colonel or the scientists?”

“No. We have only begun our investigation of the cave system. It is most disconcerting, however.”

“How so?” Sam’s voice held a hint of worry.

“I am uncertain as to the source of my discomfort.”

“Daniel,” Sam said, “have you found anything?”

“Nothing, Sam. Just a lot of dirt and dust. Nothing more.”

“No weird feelings?”

“I’m an archeologist, we live in small places for most of our life. This doesn’t bother me.”

Her chuckle over the radio brought a smile to his face. “Understood. And, from the looks of things, there is an energy reading to your east, and it’s pretty sizable. Nothing concrete, but it is out of the ordinary.”

“We’re going to head that way when we finish this passage. How far down is it from where we are?” Daniel asked.

“Hard to tell,” Sam said, her voice hesitating and Daniel could see her squinting at the readout before her. “Several hundred yards, if not more. It has to be a big tunnel.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“I’m going to send the UAV around a few more times before I bring her down and then we’ll meet you at the caves.”

“If you see anything else let us know.”

“Will do. Carter out.”

“So, Peterson,” Daniel said, turning to the younger man, “are you ready to blow this passage and head for the next one?” He was ready to move on, to check out that reading Sam had mentioned.

“Look at this, Daniel,” Peterson said several beats later, the beam of his flashlight focused on something in the middle of the passage—a glint of metal in the dark lying beside a hunk of rock.

He kneeled down, his hands reaching for the hilt of the familiar blade as the queasiness in the pit of his stomach deepened.

Lifting the knife, it reflected the light from Peterson’s flashlight, even covered as it was in a light coating of dust. But even as he took in all the details of the object he held in his hand—the well-worn hilt, the sharpened edges—something beyond caught his eye, trapped in the same light.

It looked like a rock, but as Daniel bent closer he realized it couldn’t be, it had to be something else. A stalagmite, perhaps? But why was it so small?

He kneeled down, poking the hard substance with Jack’s knife.

It moved, tipping over.

Daniel could feel his eyes widen as he looked closer at the small stalagmite. But even as he reached for his radio, another call came through, the harried tones of a nervous Jaffa.

“Daniel Jackson, do you read?”

“Teal’c, I have to show you something.”

“Remove yourself from the caves immediately.”

“What?”

“Do not hesitate. Leave now.”

Glancing up at Peterson, Daniel realized his own horror had to be reflected in the young Lieutenant’s eyes. For something to spook the Jaffa—

Without hesitation, Daniel climbed to his feet and ran.

He did not look back.

***

One last breath.

What if this was it? What if this was the last breath he would ever take?

Was he happy with his life?

He’d done some good, he knew. He’d saved some people’s lives, but yet, he’d also taken many in his time—more than he wanted to count.

And the most recent was no better than a child.

A child in a woman’s…a robot’s body. A child with a terrible past. A child who wiped out her own civilization with a toy.

A child who only wanted to be loved and accepted.

Daniel had bonded with her in a strange and terrible way. He understood what she was going through, the feelings of loneliness, of wanting to belong, of wanting to be loved—even once.

He’d been there before. He knew how much it hurt, the gnawing ache that grew inside and consumed all hope until it was mended.

What if Daniel had been right? What if she was going to shut down all those replicators?

Had he killed for no reason?

But even now, only a few breaths shy of his last, he knew in his heart that he’d done the right thing. Any hesitation on his part and things might have gone horribly wrong.

He had been standing on the edge. The decision was his to make.

And he had.

***

Sam leaned back and stretched, her eyes still fixed firmly on the monitor in front of her. The UAV was heading back for its final pass and she’d been able to put together the readings from each of the three passes to make up a much more detailed picture of the area.

Movement distracted her momentarily as a mug of coffee appeared at her elbow. She glanced up, flashing a smile of appreciation to Major Warren who returned it warmly.

“Anything?” he asked, gesturing to the monitor, the quiet sounds of conversation a comforting background.

She shook her head, sipping slowly at the mug warming her hands. “Not much. For the last pass I increased the altitude to see if we could get a better picture of the whole area. But, honestly, I don’t think we’re going to find them this way.”

“It was a good idea,” Warren said, pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

“But we ended up wasting time when we could have been searching for them on the ground.”

“I don’t think this was a waste of time. We know for sure that they’re not off in the middle of the forest somewhere. They have to be in those caves. At least it narrows it down,” Warren said, his reasoning sound, but Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time, that every second she sat in this chair was another chance that something could go wrong.

She sighed and glanced back at the monitor, checking the UAV’s readings. Her eyes widened immediately and she sat up straight in her chair, shoving her coffee cup roughly to the side, drops crashing over the edge, spilling on the tabletop.

What the…?

“Major?” Warren asked, noticing her reaction, but she ignored him, concentrating instead on the screen before her, her fingers walking hurriedly across the keys, checking to make sure the readings were right.

Her left hand quickly snagged her radio, but before she could press the button Teal’c’s voice came over the airwaves. “Daniel Jackson, do you read?” His voice sounded strained and if her readings were right, he had every right to be. But how did he know?

Daniel, of course, didn’t hear, or didn’t notice the stress she could hear in the Jaffa’s voice. “Teal’c, I have to show you something.”

“Remove yourself from the caves immediately.”

Something had warned him of the danger.

“What?” she heard Daniel reply, something finally clicking with the archeologist.

Teal’c’s voice was firm, unmovable. “Do not hesitate. Leave now.”

“What’s going on, Major?” Warren asked, the tension thick in his voice. With the volume up on the radio, it was hard to miss the conversation going on with the search party. And it was obvious that no one had missed it, the silence in the tent palpable.

Sam raised a finger to the Major, making him wait as she pressed the radio call button. “Teal’c? Daniel? Do you read me?”

She waited several seconds before trying again, the tension in her stomach a rock.

“Daniel, do you read? Teal’c? Lieutenant Collins? Peterson? Someone please respond.”

The next few moments were agonizing.

Before she signaled again, however, Teal’c’s voice cut through the silence. “We are fine, Major Carter. Have you discovered something?”

“You could say that, Teal’c. Somehow—and I don’t know how—but according to the reading that I’m getting from the UAV that entire mountain is alive.”

***

It was kind of annoying.

He had been enjoying the peace and the quiet of finding a measure of calm before he met his maker. He’d more or less resigned himself to the fact that it was happening.

But then, he had an itch on his nose.

And as soon as he realized that small point, other sensations started cropping up.

The ache in his knees.

The burning of various scrapes and scratches all over his body.

The sensation of a crust covering every part of him.

He could feel things again.

He couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t even blink his eyes, but he could feel every single grain of dust and dirt on his skin.

He’d tried to move, but nothing responded to his commands, like his mind was disconnected from his motor functions, as if someone had short-circuited his wiring.

He liked it better the other way.

Much more peaceful.

Instead, he’d be able to feel everything—every ache, every pain—until he finally died.

And all he could do was wait for it to come—one painful second at a time.

***

Standing outside the mouth of the cave, Daniel shook his head in disbelief when he heard Sam’s comment. “Alive? You’re kidding.”

“On the contrary, Daniel Jackson, I believe Major Carter is speaking the truth.”

Daniel turned to the Jaffa, his eyebrows drawn together. Lieutenants Collins and Peterson, he saw, were wearing similar expressions to his own. “It’s a mountain. It’s natural to find living creatures in caves. I’d be surprised if we didn’t find anything alive in there.”

“No, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter spoke of the mountain itself being alive and I believe it to be true. When we were exploring the passages my symbiote became agitated, much as it had once before when it was forced to neutralize a poison in my system. There must be something within the caves that emits a poison. My symbiote has only now begun to dispel it from my body. You, along with Lieutenants Collins and Peterson, have no such ability. It is not safe for you to enter these caves.”

It was difficult to argue with Teal’c when he got that tone of voice, and Daniel didn’t have the energy. He was too worried about Jack. He had to be in the caves, but where? And if the only way to find him was search every one of these passages, he wasn’t going to let a little poison stop him.

But there was something else. It was nagging in the back of his head. If he was right, they might have even less time than he originally thought.

“Teal’c,” Daniel said after several moments of thought. “I saw something in the cave when I picked up Jack’s knife. It was a small rock or stalagmite…something like that. But it looked strange, not normal.”

“I shall retrieve it for you,” Teal’c immediately responded, moving toward the mouth of the cave. “Where was it?”

“About 200 or 250 yards in,” Peterson replied and Daniel was grateful for the response since he hadn’t been paying attention to where exactly they were in the cave, trusting the Lieutenant to do that.

The Jaffa nodded once and entered the passage at a run.

Daniel pushed the call button, radioing back to the camp. “Sam?”

“I read you, Daniel. Everything okay?”

“We’re fine. Teal’c ran back into the cave to grab something I saw. Once he gets it we’ll return to camp. Sam, by any chance do we have any hazmat suits?”

“I don’t know,” she responded, her voice hesitant. “I don’t think they’re part of the standard supply, but I’ll take a look. Why?”

“I have a hunch, based on something you and Teal’c said. I’ll know more in a few minutes. Daniel out.”

“Carter out.”

“What are you thinking, Doctor?” Collins asked, stepping closer, the young man obviously uncomfortable.

Daniel turned to Peterson who’s face held a thoughtful expression. “Did you see the same thing I did?”

Peterson nodded slowly. “I think so.” Daniel gestured for him to continue. “We discovered the Colonel’s knife next to what looked like a rock, but when Daniel turned it on its side, it looked like there was something inside of it. It didn’t look right.”

“Exactly,” Daniel commented, offering the Lieutenant a smile. “Once Teal’c brings it out we’ll know for sure if we were just seeing things. And that should be right about now.” He glanced down at his watch and sure enough, sounds of footsteps were echoing out of the cave, which were quickly replaced by the appearance of the running Jaffa.

“Was this the item to which you referred?” Teal’c held out the medium-sized object to the archeologist, and Daniel recognized it immediately.

“That’s it,” he nodded, reaching for it, but the Jaffa pulled it back.

“It is unsafe for you to carry. I shall bring it back to the camp.”

Daniel nodded and dropped his hands.

As they started their trek back, Daniel’s mind kept turning over possible scenarios—none of which ended positively.

He sure hoped there were hazmat suits in the camp because if he was right, Jack and those scientists might not have much more time.

***

He was hungry.

Trapped like a fly in a spider’s web, and he was hungry.

If he could laugh, he would.

Hell, if he could scream he’d do that, but parts of him were still not in working order. It was frustrating, actually. Being able to think, to comprehend everything that was going on, but to do absolutely nothing about it.

The muffled groans and creaks of the cave above his head reached his ears, reminding him of exactly where he was, of how screwed he was.

And then the thought crossed his mind: they’re never going to find me.

***

Even under the glass dome, the piece of stalagmite was terrifying. Not the object itself, but more of the possibilities it revealed—the possible futures for their missing friends.

At one time that stalagmite had been a protein bar.

Daniel had seen the telltale sign of the protein bar in the cave under the beam of a flashlight, but until it was brought to the lab, he hadn’t been positive.

There was no mistaking it, especially now.

They’d managed to slice it down the center, the two halves rolling back to reveal the encased bar, a favorite of Colonel Carpenter.

Layers of dust and dirt had formed on its surface.

How much time had passed since it had been dropped by a careless hand? Three days? Four?

In that time, a thick crust had formed, now more than two inches thick on each side.

How much time did that leave for the scientists or the Colonel?

“What do you think, Sam?” Daniel asked sliding up next to her, his voice just loud enough for it to carry to her ears. Everyone else was hovering, some going though papers, others just milling about, not sure what do to.

“I think I need a sample to put under the microscope,” she said, setting her mind to her task. She glanced up, searching the room for the Jaffa, but not finding him among the crowd. “Where’s Teal’c?”

“Rummaging through the supply tent I think, looking for hazmat suits,” Daniel replied.

“I already alerted the SGC that we need hazmat suits. They should be here within the next hour and a half,” Sam reported, surprised that the Jaffa hadn’t stopped to check in with her.

“That’s too long. We have to get back to the caves. I don’t think Jack has much time. I mean, look at the protein bar,” Daniel said, his hand gesturing to the crust coated bar. “That happened in a few days, but even the barest of coatings with this dust will suffocate Jack and the scientists. We can’t let that happen.”

“I agree,” he said, her eyes resting on the coated bar.

“Teal’c thinks that the suits might protect us enough to search the passages.”

“But?” she could hear the word in the tone of his voice.

“But,” he continued, drawing the vowel out, “they could be anywhere.”

“But, what about that first energy reading I mentioned,” Sam asked, stepping to the computer that had tied in with the UAV, her fingers racing across the keys, looking for the information that she was referring to. “Here,” she said, tapping an area of the screen that was highlighted in blue. “I think you should go in here somewhere. If we had geological maps we might have a better idea of how many passages run through this section, but we don’t, unfortunately.”

“I know, “ he said, his fingers pulling at his bottom lip while thoughts ran through his mind. “Do you think you can give me a rough estimate of how far that is from here and in what direction?”

“I might be able to.”

“Great. I’m going to find, Teal’c and come right back. Will you have something for me?”

“Not that quickly, Daniel,” Sam said, chuckling. “I can point you in the right direction, but it’ll take longer to make the correct calculations.”

“That’s fine. Point me in the right direction. I’m not looking for you to give me a number down to the hundredth decimal place. A rough guess.”

Sam nodded, a little taken aback by Daniel’s words, but attributed them to the stress they were under. “I can do that.”

He smiled, but the warmth never reached his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll be right back,” he said and was gone, moving quickly though the maze of tables, expertly avoiding the people milling about.

She turned back to the monitor, her mind already working out the calculations she needed to give Daniel.

He was back before she knew it, standing at her side, the red hazmat suit hanging from his hands, as she wrote down the directions and her estimated distances.

“Teal’c found the suits?”

Daniel nodded. “Two of them, yes, and two extra canisters of oxygen each. It should be enough. It has to be enough.”

“More suits are coming.”

“I know, but we need them now not later,” Daniel said, his voice taking on a nearly frantic quality. He was close to the edge and she knew that feeling well—the feeling that everything was going to go bad quickly. His next words only confirmed her thoughts. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Sam shooed him out the door, half wishing that she was going with him. But, there was dirt to study and she was the only scientist here.

She sat down and eyed the stalagmite, trying to figure out where to start.

***

How long had be been in here? How long had he been trapped?

Right now he wasn’t sure which way things were going to work out. Either he was going to run out of air or go insane. It was a close tie as to which way things were going to go.

He wished he’d spoken to Daniel.

One thing this did give him was time to think—not that it was a good thing. Thinking usually meant he ended up dwelling on bad things, on things that should have been, could have been, or would have been. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. That whole ‘hindsight is 20/20’ and all that jazz.

Agreeing to this mission without taking the time to speak to Daniel was not smart, not professional—downright stupid when you got down to it. Especially since it was evidently apparent that Daniel had issues with him—trusting him, relying on him, following orders.

Well, Daniel always had issues with following orders; that wasn’t new. The rest of the stuff, however, was.

Why hadn’t he talked to him? Why hadn’t he taken the time to find him, to look for him?

Honestly, he had been too angry, too hurt. Those words had been even more damaging than Daniel could have known.

But now, anything he could have said—should have said—was long since lost.

Maybe now Daniel would come back to SG-1, support the program, and stand by Carter and Teal’c. At least now Daniel didn’t have to worry about what some sadistic son of a bitch would do.

Those days were gone.

And soon, he would be too.

***

Daniel had forgotten how much he hated wearing the hazmat suits. They were hot, uncomfortable, and he felt like he was wearing a tent, or worse, someone’s bad excuse for population control. His image as a geek would be complete if anyone saw him wearing this thing.

But, this was not the time, or the place to be thinking about his lack-luster social life.

This was the third passage they’d entered and it seemed even more confusing than the rest. At least the others dead-ended without any extra passages veering off in different directions.

This one, however, featured a crossroads.

“Which way?”

“I am uncertain. O’Neill could have traveled down any of these passages, but I cannot ascertain which. You may have to…pick one.”

Daniel smiled at the Jaffa’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Let’s start with the right one and work our way through. How much oxygen do we have left?”

Teal’c kept pace with Daniel, the beams of their flashlights crawling the cave walls and floor, looking for any sign of their friend. “I do not believe we will have enough to complete this entire section of passages. We shall return once the supplies are delivered from the SGC.”

“They should have been at the camp already, don’t you think?”

“I do not know how many suits Major Carter requested, or if additional supplies were required. I am sure she will contact us as soon as they arrive.”

“I guess,” Daniel said as he tried to keep a steady pace. There was no point in running because he would just end up using more of their precious oxygen reserves. He wanted to milk every last ounce out of the tanks.

They’d passed many stalagmites and stalactites—most of them too small to contain a person—but Daniel could only begin to imagine what might be caught within that thick crust. Indigenous animals he assumed. This would be a treasure-trove of information for the scientists. They’d be able to gather hordes of data and DNA from the items preserved in the caves. Of course, the danger of the caves themselves gave cause for extra caution.

Why was it that everything good always had such a high price?

Teal’c’s voice brought him out of his reverie. “Daniel Jackson, what do you believe that is?”

The Jaffa’s flashlight had paused on a lump in the middle of the floor. It was different than the other stalagmites in the cave—wide but not tall and it was too skinny to be an animal.

Kneeling down, Daniel prodded it with his glove-clad finger. The shape seemed familiar, but he didn’t know why. “Teal’c, did you bring a knife or anything?”

“I did,” he said, handing the archeologist his knife, while his flashlight began to scan further down the cave. Daniel glanced up momentarily from his work as he dug around the edges. The Jaffa had reached the end of the tunnel, an assortment of stalagmites and stalactites joined together to form a wall across it.

“Anything?”

“I believe O’Neill came to the end of this passage and turned around.”

It was hard work, this chipping away at the crust. It was thicker than it looked and far stronger. He should have asked Teal’c to do this. “Why?”

“The dirt around this opening is disturbed. It appears as if someone attempted to clear a section in order to peer around the wall.”

When his knife hit something more solid than the crust of dirt he paused his digging and began to widen the hole he’d made, chipping away at the edges.

He didn’t like what he saw.

“Teal’c,” Daniel said, the word coming slow, his mind not wanting to believe what his eyes saw. “Is this what I think it is?”

Without glancing up, Daniel could feel Teal’c kneeling down next to him, shifting his large frame so he could see. His inhalations and exhalations were loud in the suit, too loud for the small space.

“If you believe that you are looking at a section of SGC-issued weaponry, then we are observing the same item.”

“But why the gun?”

“I am uncertain, perhaps this section of the cave is different than the others. Perhaps the oils used in the weapon’s maintenance attracted the dirt. We have no evidence to support these suppositions, however.”

Daniel turned to the Jaffa, and he could feel his eyes widening as his thoughts formed. “Teal’c, how long has Jack been missing?”

“More than twelve hours.”

“So, how long do you think this has been sitting here? Look at it. It’s nearly an inch thick already. What about Jack?”

Teal’c, though, did not answer, his gaze focused instead on Daniel’s arm—Daniel’s dust covered arm.

“I believe we must depart and return again with new attire and a new supply of oxygen. I do not believe it will be safe for us to remain longer.”

“We still have oxygen left, we can’t leave now,” Daniel nearly sprung to his feet, moving several paces away from his friend and the encased P90. “Would Jack stop just because it got dangerous?”

“Daniel Jackson—“

He shook his head, waving his hands emphatically. “No, Teal’c. I’m not leaving. You can go if you want, but I’m staying to search.”

Several moments passed, the hissing of the air in their suits the only sound, before he finally nodded, indicating his agreement. Daniel sighed in relief and moved back down the passage. There were still more places to look.

***

He was cold.

The chill in the air had finally settled in his bones.

And he was getting sleepy.

He found himself drifting off for longer periods of time than the last—at least that’s what he thought. For all he knew, it could have been seconds instead of the minutes and hours it felt like.

He hoped SG-1 was okay, that they hadn’t gotten caught unawares like he had been.

He’d been stupid and short-sighted.

How that was different than usual, he didn’t know.

Why did he insist on fighting?

He was cold and he was tired.

Maybe it was time to sleep.

***

It had taken her longer than she thought to make the slide, the material difficult to work with. She uttered a sigh of relief when she finally placed it on the microscope’s table, clicking the arms down to hold it in place.

The fact that this was a scientific outpost of sorts helped matters since much of the equipment she needed was on hand. But even if she had needed something else, supplies were already on their way. Lieutenant Colonel Harper had radioed ten minutes ago that the items she needed would be arriving within the hour.

At least some things were going as planned.

Rolling her shoulders a little to ease the tension that had settled there, Sam leaned down, adjusting the focus on the microscope to begin her study of the object.

What she saw surprised her.

Turning up the magnification, she narrowed her focus, letting the image before her swim into view.

What was this?

It had all the marking of a living creature, but it was dirt, wasn’t it?

Looking closer and longer, the details were falling into place, making for a picture she did not want to see.

The dirt itself was alive, a living being.

But its internal structure was nothing like she’d ever seen before—its structure crystalline and beautiful in its complexity.

But it was something not normally found in nature.

***

He struggled against the pain in his body, his mind sending out a scream of silent desperation.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t.

But everywhere he turned, everything he considered, ended in his failure, in his final demise.

No last minute rescues.

No last minute trips into the sarcophagus.

No time to spend healing under the rays of the hand device.

He could hear it.

He could smell it.

He could feel it.

He could see it.

It was dark, its dull eyes staring him down, taunting him.

Each time he looked, closer than the last.

Hauntingly beautiful, yet grotesquely detestable.

If he could cry, he would, but even that final release was gone, snatched away from him.

Lost and alone and light-years from home.

Death had come a-calling, and like a fool, he’d answered.

***

Daniel stumbled for the third time, the visor making it difficult for him to see. If it weren’t for Teal’c’s outstretched hand he was sure that he would have found himself in a heap in the dirt.

They were running out of time, his precious last few minutes nearly spent.

The passage they were traveling had begun to slope downward, the ground beneath his feet not as secure as it had been previously.

Would Jack have tried this on his own?

Pausing for a moment, he aimed his flashlight further down the tunnel, trying to make sense of the things he saw before him. It seemed as if the path eventually leveled out some yards below, various stalagmites and stalactites scattered throughout the area, some big, some small. They didn’t have the time to go through every single one that was just about the right size.

Jack could be anywhere.

Daniel sighed feeling the weight of the entire situation settle down a little more firmly on his shoulders.

It was his fault that Jack had to go searching for the scientists alone. It was his fault that Jack was missing.

He had to find him.

“Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c’s voice broke through his reverie and he turned to look at the man beside him. Gesturing with his hand, the beam from the Jaffa’s flashlight bounced a little before settling down. “I believe this may require our attention.”

It was a radio.

***

His mind jerked awake.

Had there been a noise? Had he heard something or was his mind playing tricks on him yet again?

Again he heard it, the muffled tones of voices, of rocks tumbling, but then it was gone just as quickly as it came.

Was there someone out there?

He listened intently, forcing himself to pay attention, to truly listen to the things around him—but it was hard.

He was tired.

And it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

***

Easing down the slippery slope, both hands clasped around the thick rope that Teal’c has secured at the top, Daniel was trying to hurry, but the Jaffa’s constant reminders for caution slowed him down.

If he got hurt now, Jack wouldn’t have a chance in hell.

He flew down the last final part of the slope, his feet kicking rocks and pebbles. Scurrying to the small black radio, he bent down, picked it up, and tried to dust off its surface. A crust had formed over the majority of it, but thankfully some of it was uncovered.

Angling his flashlight toward the nearest stalagmite, Daniel noticed something different, something strange.

This stalagmite had a crack in its side and green showed through. Jack had been wearing green BDUs just like that.

“Teal’c!” he cried, jumping to his feet as he started digging at the crack, trying to make it wider. “This has to be him, it has to be.”

But even as he said those words he noticed something else.

His air was running out.

“Daniel Jackson, we must leave now.”

“I’m not leaving without Jack,” he said, kneeling back down. With Teal’c’s knife in his hand he began digging around the base of the stalagmite. “If I’m going, he’s going with me.”

“Daniel Jackson—“

“Don’t argue with me,” Daniel said and he could hear the last wheezing breaths of his oxygen tank. It was now or never.

“I was not,” came the reply, this time from much closer. Glancing up, Daniel saw Teal’c standing a foot away, the rope in his hands. “I was merely joining you to assist in O’Neill’s extraction.”

Daniel nodded once and went back to his task. Teal’c’s voice sounded over the radio as he signaled back to the base.

“Teal’c to Major Carter. Medical teams are required immediately at the main mountain chamber.”

“I read you, Teal’c. You found the Colonel?”

“Daniel Jackson believes it to be the case, but more time is required to make a positive identification.”

“Major Clarke and Major Warren are on their way with SG-8 and Lieutenant Peterson. Expect them shortly,” Sam said, her voice tiny through the radio. But before Teal’c could acknowledge her reply, another voice cut in.

“Teal’c we’re already on the move. We should be there in twenty. Clarke out.”

“We shall be awaiting your arrival. Teal’c out.”

Daniel glanced up as Teal’c signed off, gesturing for the warrior to step closer. “I think this should be loose enough to move him up the slope. I need your help.”

“Would it not be wise to wrap the rope around it in order to get it to the top? I do not believe we will be able to carry it up the slope of the passage since the ground is unstable.”

Daniel nodded, saving his breath, and with Teal’c’s help wrapped the rope around the stalagmite as the Jaffa moved back up to the top, anchoring himself to pull up the body.

It only took a few minutes for it to reach the top, but to Daniel it was forever. Especially as he stood at the bottom waiting impatiently for Teal’c to toss the rope back down to him.

With the often-shifting dirt there was no way for him to get to the top without help. And it wasn’t even a steep slope, but it was just enough to make it treacherous. It took several minutes for Daniel to reach the top, several more minutes than he wanted it to take, more time than they had.

Under protest from Teal’c, Daniel ripped off his hood as the last of his air was spent, but he didn’t care. They had a job to do. A few minutes wouldn’t kill him.

Struggling every step of the way, Daniel and Teal’c headed for the entrance sharing the weight of their heavy burden between them. The dust swirled around them, as it were attempting to obscure their vision, trying to keep them and their precious cargo inside the cave.

The last few yards to the entrance of the cave seemed to take forever and even as they dropped to the ground, hand were there to support them. Major Clarke and Major Warren quickly moved in, easing the dirt-encrusted body to the ground, the other members of SG-8 working with small tools to try and chip the layers of dust and dirt from the body.

God, don’t let them be too late.

Shrugging off the remnants of his hazmat suit, Daniel didn’t argue when someone pushed a canteen in his hands and ordered him to drink.

They started at the head—or where they thought the head should be. It was hard to tell, the layers thick.

They were trying to work quickly but safely, knowing that there was a person beneath all of that dirt, behind that crusty film.

But something was wrong.

Jack didn’t have blonde hair.

***

It took them nearly thirty minutes to clear the hardened crust away from Major Annette Wales’ face.

Five minutes later, however, she started having problems breathing.

After making sure her airway was clear, they intubated her. Ruth Poland, one of the medics with SG-8, was constantly at her side, her steady hand a necessity—especially when they decided to transfer her to the camp.

Daniel, of course, protested the entire way, at first refusing to move from the caves until Teal’c “talked him down”.

Even when they were hiking back to the camp, Wales on the stretcher Peterson could still hear Daniel talking to Teal’c, trying to convince him to go back to the caves with him to look for the Colonel.

It was as if the Doctor had forgotten entirely about the person that he’d just saved.

It was still a life, a person, a member of the SGC. That should matter for something.

Granted, he knew that he hadn’t had the best attitude when they had first started searching. He just figured that they’d all be dead and lost somewhere.

When Teal’c had radioed back that they had found someone, Peterson didn’t think he had ever seen a team move so fast, covering the distance to the caves in half the time.

They’d gotten hope when everything seemed hopeless.

And for anyone, hope was a powerful emotion. It kept you moving, kept you focused on the job at hand, even if you only had a small part to play.

In a makeshift infirmary back at the camp, SG-8 had swarmed over the Major, hooking her up to whatever equipment and monitors they could given her current state of confinement while others carefully chipped away at the rest of the crust, one small piece at a time. There was no way she could go back to earth with any ounce of that dust on her, but it would take time.

Major Carter, along with some of the others, stood off to the side as they discussed their next course of action, their next step in the rescue of the Colonel.

Whatever happened to the rest of the scientists? Last time he counted, there were still five missing.

Colonel O’Neill would not forget about them so quickly.

Stepping closer to the group, his words were quiet, but there was a forcefulness behind them that even surprised him. “Major Carter, do you have a moment?”

She turned, confusion crossing her face for the briefest of seconds, and Peterson could see the weariness in her eyes, the tightness in her jaw. “Of course, what is it?”

“I couldn’t help but overhearing your conversation with Doctor Jackson and Major Warren and I was concerned.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw several heads perk up at his words, pausing in their work. While his words were respectful, he knew his tone wasn’t. A beat later Teal’c stepped into the circle, his eyes encouraging Peterson to continue.

“I think you’ve gotten your priorities a little mixed up. I hope you don’t take this wrong, but from what I know of Colonel O’Neill he’d be appalled to hear that you put his life above anyone else’s. It seems as if you’ve forgotten about the scientists who have been missing far longer than he has been. For all we know they could be dead, but don’t they deserve a chance at life?”

The silence that greeted his words was thick.

He glanced between the people standing before him.

Carter finally nodded once, wearily. “Peterson, do you think you’re up to going as part of the search teams?”

“Of course.”

“Major Warren, could you join him?”

“Certainly, Major. What do you have in mind?”

“We received three more hazmat suits from the SGC and a dozen extra air tanks, which means that you can go, along with Daniel and Teal’c. Do you think that the four of you would be able to do a thorough search of the area?”

“Sure,” Warren said, nodding instantly.

“Major?”

Carter turned to Colonel Hill, the medic’s uniform askew, his face troubled. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Major Wales. Her readings don’t look right and with that crust on her, we have no way to treat her if something goes south—which is very possible. Her pulse is thready and we already know her breathing’s compromised. We need a faster way to get that off of her and neutralize the dust. We’re working with latex gloves, but I’m worried that my staff—and everyone else who stays in this room—might be at risk. Whatever we’re chipping off is slowly starting to get into the air.” He paused, his expression turning even more serious. “I don’t want us to end up like Major Wales.”

Peterson could see the wheels in Carter’s mind spinning, various situations and possible outcomes measured and then discarded. When she spoke, her voice was heavy as if the very words were weighing her down, her final decision carrying the pros and cons of every solution she considered. “We can try a few things, but the dust I examined before wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen. I’m going to need some help figuring out some way to effectively destroy it.”

“I’m sure Collins and Bosco can give you a hand, Carter,” Warren said, volunteering some of the SGC members standing a few feet away.

She stood for a minute, her hands on her hips, glancing back and forth between the people surrounding her before finally nodding, her eyes not as dark as before.

In them, Peterson saw hope.

***

The noise was gone.

He was alone.

This was it. The final hurrah. His swan song.

Trapped in a cave, his mind alert and conscious of his death, his body a worthless lump of flesh, his muscles and his body betraying him.

Each breath he took was even more shallow than the one before.

Vaguely he realized that the time was coming, the time when he was down to his final breath.

His heart was slowing as well, he could feel the beats in his chest, each fainter than the one before.

Was this what death felt like, this quiet release and acceptance of what was to come?

There should be something more.

Instead, there would just be one last breath.

***

This was not working.

Sam sighed, pushing her chair away from the table as she found her feet, stalking away from the experiments she was running.

She’d tried water.

Distilled water.

Every type of light she could think of.

Different solutions from sugar water to salt water in varying concentrations.

Acids didn’t bother it.

Alkalines didn’t make a dent.

She’d paused in her work an hour ago to step into the med tent to check on SG-8’s progress. Thankfully, they were getting somewhere by chipping away at the crust and scooping it away in various closed containers, but Major Wales’ condition was deteriorating.

Peterson’s words had struck a cord, reminding her that she had forgotten their real mission, their original mission, the reason they were here in the first place. Once the Colonel went missing everything else had gone out the window so to speak, her concentration fixed solely on finding him.

Peterson had been right. If the Colonel found out about her behavior he wouldn’t hesitate to give her a nice swift kick in the mikta.

There had to be something that would kill this…thing. She didn’t even know what to call it. For all intents and purposes it looked like dust or dirt, but it was alive. It kind of reminded her of an insect in its behavior, swarming its victim, taking it down by sheer volume.

But, it wasn’t native to this planet, at least as far as she could tell. Someone had brought it here. But why? Their purpose might be hidden, but the results were clearly evident.

This bug had killed off all the living things that were on this planet.

And what was worse? It was created. Engineered. Someone made them, sent them here, and wiped out an entire planet.

The SGC was just here for the clean up.

There had to be a way to destroy them, kill them…

Her thoughts trailed off as her eyes watched the progress of a ray of sunlight on the nearby table as the clouds moved in the sky.

Liquid didn’t work.

Light didn’t make a difference.

What about sound?

***

Armed with new tanks of oxygen, additional rope, small chisels, and additional manpower, they attacked the caves with a vengeance.

This time every human-sized stalagmite was examined, pieces were chipped away, until it could be determined if it was a member of the SGC or not.

It wasn’t a pretty sight.

And the smell…well, that was something Daniel didn’t want to dwell on. Even through the skin of the hazmat suits and their oxygen supply, some of the odors lingered.

They tried not to think about the fact that most of these stalagmites were bodies, human corpses encased in a hard crust of dirt and dust—the original inhabitants of the planet, someone’s mother or father or husband or wife or brother or sister—slowly decaying over time.

They couldn’t think about any of that.

Instead, they pushed their own comfort and their thoughts to the back of their minds, focusing instead on the task at hand.

***

She’d killed it.

It had taken her longer than she had anticipated, but she’d killed it.

Racing out of the laboratory tent, her boot-clad feet kicking up dust, she stormed into the med tent, the members of SG-8 immediately moving to protect their patient.

She could only imagine what she looked like, her hair sticking up in various directions and thick ear-protectors covering parts of her head. She was wielding a strange contraption, part television dish, part stereo system.

“Whoever’s staying needs to get ear protection, otherwise you have to leave the room.” Her words were rushed and breathless as her free hand pulled off her ear protection.

“Major?” Colonel Hill said as he rose to his feet, confusion lining his features. “Before you wave that thing over my patient, I’d appreciate it if you explained to me exactly what you had in mind.”

“Sound kills them,” she said stepping closer, but paused at Hill’s upturned hand.

“Sounds can do a lot of things, Major, including cause headaches, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, deafness, among other things. Major Wales isn’t exactly up for one of your experiments. I know Colonel O’Neill tolerates a lot of things, but when it comes to my patients, I’m not as flexible.”

Sam took a deep breath, letting her hands fall to her side, the equipment hanging beside her. “We needed to find a way to neutralize the dust infestation before we can transport anyone back to the SGC, correct?”

“Correct.”

“I’ve tried just about everything, but I realized that their structure was very brittle, crystalline in nature. Using sound, I can get them to vibrate and essentially break apart, killing them. By using ultrasound, the very high end of the sound spectrum, I can kill them, Sir.”

“Those frequencies are not safe for humans.”

“I know that they are in large amounts, but we don’t need that. Short bursts should do it, but we need to make sure Major Wales’ ears are protected, as well as anyone else remaining in the room.”

Hill was not convinced. “I still don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sam paused, pursing her lips. “Wales is dying, isn’t she?” Her voice was quiet, her words barely carrying the distance to the Colonel.

His nod was her only response.

“This is the only way to bring her home, to make sure she gets the best treatment she deserves.”

A few beats of silence passed and Carter’s stomach twisted. She knew this would work. This was the only way.

“Everyone clear the room,” Hill said, his voice carrying through the tent. Locking gazes with Sam, his green eyes were hard, but hopeful. “Let’s do this.”

They cleared out quickly, their backwards glances their only response to the order. Sam ignored them, taking the few moments to set up her sound device. Hill dug into the supplies scattered throughout the tent, coming up with two pairs of heavy-duty earplugs. “I think these will work,” he said, holding one up as he stuffed the other in his ears. Hill used the second pair on Wales.

She nodded and continued to tweak the device, making sure it was set correctly before she slipped on her own ear-protectors.

A sharp nod indicated his readiness and Sam positioned herself at the foot of the bed, the device aimed at the Major’s body and the areas still covered in the thick crust.

Four pulses later and it was gone, disintegrated into a near-black heap.

The device had worked.

Briefly meeting Hill’s eyes, Sam turned for the door. She needed a hazmat suit if she was going into the caves.

***

It was slow.

Setting up the rope, they slid down the incline once again, searching the area where Wales had been found, where the radio had been dropped. There was a lot of ground to cover here, the passage opening up to a huge cavern, stalagmites and stalactites littering the entire area.

Peterson spotted it finally, a dark blotch on the otherwise taupe landscape, caught in the bright beam of his flashlight.

The lens was cracked, but it still worked.

“Concentrate your search over here,” Warren commanded, his arm gesturing toward the discarded flashlight, nods of confirmation his only reply.

A yelp of surprise from Peterson brought everyone running. “I think I found someone,” he said, his voice breathless and nervous, his hands still working at chipping away the crust surrounding the body.

“What did you find?” Daniel said, sliding up next to the man, squinting his eyes to see what Peterson has discovered—a hint of blue through the hole he’d made in the dust.

It wasn’t Jack, but it had to be a scientist.

“Someone focus on the base. We have to separate it from the floor of the cavern,” Daniel said, already working with Peterson to enlarge the hole he’d made in the side.

It took a few minutes with Teal’c and Warren working on the base to get it free, and several more minutes to hoist it up to the top. Daniel and Peterson, however, moved on to other stalagmites.

There were still more to find.

A crackle over the radio broke his concentration and he paused, leaning against the wall of the cave as the transmission came through.

“Rescue team, this is Carter. Do you read?”

“We read you, Carter,” Warren replied.

“We found a way to kill the bugs, but you need additional equipment in order to use it. I brought it with me, but you have to meet me at the mouth of the cave so I can explain it to you.”

“Teal’c and I are outside already,” Warren answered. “Peterson and Jackson are still searching. We need all the time we can get. How long will it take?”

“Only a few minutes, but it will speed up your work. I’ll be there in ten. Carter out.”

“Acknowledged, Warren out.” He paused for a beat before continuing. “Daniel, John, did you catch that? Start heading out now. It’ll take that long for you to get here anyway.”

Daniel and Peterson exchanged glances before the archeologist answered for the two of them. “We’re on our way.”

***

The concept was simple.

Aim.

Fire.

Watch the dirt turn black and fall to the floor.

Easy as pie.

Sam and Colonel Hill had determined that the standard radio earpieces would muffle the sound enough to protect one of their ears sufficiently with little concern for hearing loss. Since they only needed one earplug each, it enabled them to spread out the few pairs between the members of the search party.

A few quick bursts of the sound device at their recently exhumed stalagmite and the body emerged—the obviously dead body of Collin Gibson.

Bowed heads and respectful words lasted only a few moments, before they moved as one toward the caves, Daniel wielding the device.

“Now remember, we have to protect their ears, so you can’t use it directly on their heads until we can clear it with our tools,” Sam reminded him as they hiked back to the cavern where the other bodies had been found.

“I remember, Sam,” Daniel replied, trying not to let her “mother-hen” tone annoy him. She was only trying to help just like he was. “I’ll do it first about midway. That should give us access to their wrist and we can check for a pulse to see if they’re alive.”

“Right,” she said, pausing at the top of the incline, her flashlight aimed into the darkness below. “Down there?”

“Yep,” Daniel said, bracing himself and the device as he picked up the rope in his free hand, heading down the slope. Teal’c’s light tracked his progress, lighting his way, until he reached the bottom. The others followed closely behind, but Daniel had already moved on, aiming the device at the stalagmites they hadn’t touched previously, a single pulse clearing a large enough area for them to make a positive identification.

The smell was worse this time.

Five minutes later, Daniel located a scientist, the dust falling to the ground revealing a small silver bracelet, a bracelet he’d seen around Naomi Dean’s wrist the other week, just before she’d shipped off for this assignment.

And she’d been so excited about it. This was her first off-world mission and one she’d been dreaming about for months.

Now, though, the wrist it encircled had begun turning an unnatural color.

They worked in silence to pull the body from its dirt-encrusted grave, pulling it outside to lay with the first.

Inside, the dust and dirt started to swirl. It wasn’t noticeable at first, the thickening of the air ignored, everyone assuming that it was just the dead dust entities floating on the air currents.

It didn’t occur to them until the next body, Mark Andrews, was found that the dust particles were moving on their own.

“Daniel, I think you have to hurry,” Sam said, pulling Daniel’s attention to her as a section of the cave wall collapsed and another swarm of dust entities swept by, the edge of her flashlight beam catching them mid-flight. “I’m not sure how stable this cavern is now that we’re using this device, but I don’t want to stay long enough to find out.”

“I’m not leaving until we find everyone else,” Daniel said, already moving to another stalagmite several steps away.

“Daniel—“

“Sam,” he said, turning to face her, his eyes linking with hers. “Stay or go, it’s up to you, but I’m staying.” He held her gaze for several beats before turning away, aiming the device and activating it again. Another half-decayed arm emerged and he moved on, pushing any other thoughts to the back of his mind.

Three more stalagmites later and another familiar color appeared—BDU green, the wrist thinner than Jack’s. “We have another one here,” Daniel called as he aimed the device toward the floor, loosening the base before moving on once again, confident that the rest of the team would continue what he’d started.

“Damn. No pulse.”

Warren’s hushed words washed over him, but he kept going. He had to.

One more followed—in blue—but it took nearly an hour to find it, many more partially decayed corpses later, the swarms of dust entities thickening every few minutes. In the back of his mind Daniel was worried. There was only one left. What if the swarms got too thick? What if they couldn’t find their way back out? What happened if they got trapped, encased in the very dust and dirt that had trapped the ones they were trying to save?

And Jack was still missing. Where was he? Where’d he wander off to this time?

Raising his arm once again to aim the device at the next stalagmite, Daniel noticed that his suit had a thick covering on it—and not the dark, dead remains of the dust insects as Sam had described them. These were the live ones.

“Daniel, we have to get out of here.” Sam’s voice came through his earpiece, her tone hovering on the edge of extreme anxiety.

“We can’t leave now. We could be so close,” he protested, already working on the next stalagmite.

“We could also be dead in a few minutes if we don’t move now. Peterson and Warren have already headed back to the main passage. The bugs were starting to eat through their suits. We have got to go.”

“I need more time.”

“We don’t have it.” Sam appeared at his elbow, latching herself on and tugging him back the way they came. Her firm grip was not about ready to budge and, truth be told, now that he was paying attention, it was a lot worse than he originally thought. If it were snow this would be near white-out conditions.

Moving steadily, they made their way back toward the entrance of the cavern, the brief breaks in the swarms allowing them to see where they were going.

But, Daniel couldn’t leave yet.

Stopping dead in his tracks, he could feel the tug at his arm as Sam tried to move him forward, but he wasn’t budging. “We can’t go now, not when we’re this close. Just give me ten more minutes, we still have another section to try.”

“Daniel—“

“Sam, please. This might be our last chance.”

He could hear her sigh over the open radio channel. “Ten minutes, Daniel.”

Shuffling along, moving when he could, when a clear spot gave him some visibility, he made his way to the stand of stalagmites he remembered from before, off to the side, away from the main groupings.

There were more here than he originally thought.

Switching on the device he started working, ignoring the smell and the sight of decomposition, trying not to think of these corpses as once-living bodies. It was easier that way.

In his haste, he nearly missed the glint of light against glass, his mind catching up with his body several stalagmites further down the row.

What was that?

Sliding back, the swarms thickening once again, he aimed his flashlight at the hole he had made in the crust, its light reflecting off a familiar SGC-issued wristwatch lens, the green BDU sleeve pushed up around an elbow the way Jack liked to wear it.

Daniel’s hand snaked in to grab the wrist as he called for help. “Sam! Teal’c! I found Jack and he’s alive! I need help.”

Sam replied immediately. “Teal’c, stay where you are, I’m still down here. Daniel, I’ll be there in a minute. We have to hurry.”

“I know, I know,” Daniel said, aiming the device at Jack’s feet, trying to get the cavern floor to release his friend. Sam found him moments later as he was wrestling Jack’s body forward, toward the slope they’d descended.

“Let me help you,” she said, grabbing the other side, lifting the Colonel’s body, distributing the weight between the two of them.

How they made it to the incline, he’ll never remember, those minutes longer than anything he’d ever experienced before.

The sight of Teal’c standing at the bottom spelled a measure of relief for the archeologist. They were almost out. They were almost safe. Just a little bit more.

The three of them stumbled out of the cave carrying Jack’s encased body, refusing to release it until they were outside where they found Colonel Hill waiting along with Warren and Peterson—and the rest of the bodies.

The Colonel took charge immediately, gesturing them to lay Jack down at the base of several trees, his medical equipment spread out on the ground within easy reach. Hill’s hand immediately latched onto Jack’s wrist, checking the pulse. Hill’s hardening expression told Daniel all he needed to know.

They were too late.

“Major, I need to get this crust off of O’Neill now. He has a pulse, but it won’t be for long.”

“We can use the sound device,” Daniel suggested, his hazmat suit’s hood hanging from his hands, but was immediately dismissed by Sam.

“No, we can’t. Without some kind of protection for his ears there’s no telling what this high-frequency sound would do to him.”

“Death is better?”

“I have to agree with Doctor Jackson, Major,” Hill said. “While the potential hazards are high, I think we need to risk it. I don’t see any other way. If we can get one pulse to clear away the crap from his head, we can put the earplugs in so we can do the rest of his body.”

Sam nodded once, reluctantly, and Daniel switched the device back on, making sure the needles hadn’t moved. They only had one shot at this. He had to get it right. After checking with Sam, he positioned himself so that the pulse would have the widest effect.

And he pushed the button.

The crust turned black and fell away, Jack’s pale face coming into view. Along with a small trickle of blood running down from each of his ears.

“Oh God, Colonel, there’s blood.” Daniel could feel the strength leaving his knees and he dropped to the ground as Hill moved in, his otoscope already in his hands as he tilted Jack’s face, checking his ears. He reached back and grabbed some gauze, wiping the blood away before he put the earplugs in place.

“Again, Doctor. We have to finish.”

“But his ears—“

“We’ll worry about it later. I need you to finish this now.”

Daniel nodded wearily and he aimed the device again. Four pulses later and Jack’s body was clear of the crust. He leaned back, exhaustion sweeping over him.

And then Jack’s breath rattled and his chest stopped moving.

***

Pulling off his hood, Teal’c watched the dance of life and death before him, gracefully performed by Colonel Hill. With concise orders to Major Jameson, they moved as if one, working on O’Neill’s body, breathing life where little remained.

O'Neill's airway was cleared and an endotracheal tube was efficiently placed. An Ambu bag quickly followed, the Major’s squeezes keeping perfect time and Colonel Hill's cardiac compressions providing the counterpoint. It was a familiar routine—too familiar—and every time the finality of death awaited, hovering overhead, drifting in and out like the clouds passing overhead.

“Carter, I need you,” Hill said, his voice clipped and she moved immediately to his side, finding his rhythm and continuing without a dropped beat.

Turning, the Colonel dug into his gear, a stethoscope emerging along with several vials and needles. His movements were precise, not a second wasted as he prepared the solution, flicking out the bubbles in the syringe.

“Hold everything for a minute,” he said and the stethoscope found its way to O’Neill’s chest, Colonel Hill listening in the silence.

He checked once, and then again, before nodding, allowing the symphony of life to continue. Pulling O’Neill’s BDU shirt away from his shoulder, he shoved the dirty black T-shirt to the side. A quick swipe of an antiseptic wipe and the needle slid home.

Another nod a minute later and they stopped, Colonel Hill checking again. He signaled for Major Jameson to continue

“We have a pulse. Let’s move him out. But Ed, I need you to keep up the bag. I’m not hearing any ventilations.” The Colonel glanced at the assembled search teams, his gaze lingering on the still encrusted bodies in the next clearing. “We’re going to have to put him on a stretcher in order to move him. It’ll be slow going since we have to keep up with the Ambu bag, but we have no choice. I’ll stabilize him as best as I can at the camp, but then we have to move him and Wales to the SGC as soon as possible.”

No one argued, most too shocked by the events to do more than trail behind, following the crisp commands of Colonel Hill. For Major Carter, some of those scientists were her friends in addition to co-workers, her pale expression and clenched jaw her only outward reaction to the events that had transpired. The smudge of dirt along her cheek only emphasized her waxen complexion.

Daniel Jackson merely watched, still slumped on the ground, the sound device cradled in his hands, as O’Neill was transferred to the stretcher. But once they began moving, he scrambled to his feet and handed the device to Peterson, refusing to simply walk alongside, insisting on sharing the load.

Colonel Hill did not argue with him, nodding to Major Warren who finally stepped side, giving the archeologist his spot.

And with a tired sigh, they moved forward, Major Carter quietly radioing ahead, alerting the remaining personnel to be ready to move out. The camp would remain until another team returned to strike it down.

There were other things of far greater importance that had to be accomplished.

The dead could wait.

***

Standing in the middle of the med tent, Daniel let the medics move around him, his eyes fixed on the two patients before him—both unconscious, both on life support, neither breathing on their own.

They were alive, he kept telling himself, but what if this was it? What if, after everything that they’d been through, their conditions never improved?

This wasn’t life; it was waiting to die.

Daniel closed his eyes, blocking the sight of his friend lying so still, but the images were burned on his brain—the paleness, the dirt, the blood. And Colonel Hill refused to say anything more about the blood, which only made him worry more.

“Daniel?”

The voice was quiet and kind and he forced his lids open, turning his head to meet the young Lieutenant’s gaze.

“Major Carter wanted you in the lab,” Peterson said a few beats later, his tone apologetic.

Daniel nodded slowly and moved toward the door, his booted feet dragging, the instinct to look over his shoulder too hard to ignore.

His last glimpse of the room nearly stole his breath away: Peterson standing, his shoulders slumped as he stared at Jack and Wales; the medics swarming the room packing everything in sight; Major Jameson continuously monitoring the patients, jotting down notes in their respective charts, his face closed off.

The sound of death filled the air, Daniel’s whispered words lost to the atmosphere.

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

***

Although Sam had thought that nothing short of a bulldozer or the end of the world as we know it would move Daniel from the Colonel’s side, when she had asked Peterson to get the archeologist she’d known it was a good idea.

Watching him outside the caves and on the way back to camp, she could see it in his features and his posture.

He was blaming himself.

In a way, his actions did play a large part in their current circumstances. But what’s done was done and there was no going back. Even the Colonel would tell him to get his head out of his ass at this point.

If things got worse for the Colonel…it might be better for Daniel to pull back now, at least a little. He was close, too close, but weren’t they all?

She was glad—and a little surprised honestly—that he’d joined her in the lab and she’d gotten him to help her pack up some of the reports. He was good at organization and if she could get his mind off of the Colonel for a little while, it would be a good thing.

But even now, as they walked back to the gate, the two-stretcher caravan weaving its way through the forest, his gaze rarely left the Colonel’s litter.

If she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she wasn’t paying attention to much of anything else either.

Teal’c, though, was paying attention to everything—especially the swarm of bugs heading their way.

Stepping up beside her, matching her stride, Teal’c spoke, his voice low, but emphatic. “Major Carter, we need to hurry.”

“What?” she turned to him, only half listening, stumbling a little as her foot caught on a rock.

“We are being followed.”

Raising an eyebrow, she glanced up at the Jaffa before turning to glance behind the caravan.

Teal’c was right.

“Holy Hannah,” Sam muttered, her eyes growing wide as a dark patch drifted on the air, heading in their direction and getting closer. “Is that what I think it is?”

“If you perceive it to be the dust entity, I believe you are correct. We must hurry.”

“But we’re not in the caves, Teal’c. We should be safe.”

“I do not believe so, Major Carter. The entity carries a poison that affects its victims, but there must be another aspect to it as well, perhaps similar to the nishta Seth used to control his servants. I believe the entity must use it to send its victims into a confused state, eventually leading them into its lair. How else do you believe that six team members—scientists and military personnel—were convinced to enter when some had not returned? What force propelled O’Neill further into the caves even though it may have been against his better judgment to enter?”

“We can’t move much faster,” Sam said, realizing just how far away from the Stargate they were.

“Perhaps if we use the device…”

“Of course,” Sam said, gesturing for Peterson to move closer. He’d packed the sound device in one of the packs at the camp when she’d insisted that they needed to take it home. “I need the device.”

As soon as Colonel Hill saw her pause in the middle of the trail, he immediately called out to her. “Major, is there a problem?”

“Get Colonel O’Neill and Major Wales to the Stargate. We’re just going to take care of a little bug problem we seem to have picked up.”

“Problem…?” he began, but stopped and Sam looked up at him, watching as his eyes widened. “Is that…?”

“Yes. We’ll cover your six, but try to move a little faster if you can.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, Major,” Hill said, turning back to the still moving caravan, shouting orders as he strode forward.

Sam turned back to the device that she was digging out of Peterson’s pack. “I need to get a pair of earplugs,” she said, glancing up at the Jaffa who, she noted, was placing an earplug in his ear, the other ear protected from the earpiece of his radio. “Teal’c…”

“Major Carter, my symbiote protects me from the poison this entity emits. Keep the caravan moving. I shall endeavor to hold off the entity so you can reach the Stargate safely.”

She nodded once, slowly, seeing the logic in his statement and handed him the sound device. He quickly moved back the way they came, fading into the foliage of the forest.

By the time they reached the Gate, nearly two hours later, after several stops—some to change those on stretcher duty, other times to check the patients—she was exhausted. They’d been on their feet with little time for food, water, or sleep and the emotional toll of the day weighed heavily on every member of the search and rescue contingent. 

She’d passed command over to Lieutenant Colonel Harper, who’d met them halfway, and he hadn’t argued, taking one look at her and nodding once before turning to talk to Colonel Hill.

Standing on the stone platform of the Stargate, Sam glanced back, waiting not so patiently for the Jaffa. She’d radioed him several minutes ago and he’d indicated that he was near the gate. But, where was he? With the wormhole already open, the rest of the team just stepping through, she wasn’t about ready to leave him behind, but she was eager to leave. She reached for the radio again, but movement at the edge of the clearing caught her eye and Teal’c broke through the foliage, running toward the Stargate, a grim smile on his face.

He nodded once, indicating the job had been completed, and stepped through the event horizon.

Sam sighed and followed him through.

She’d gotten the job done.

But at what cost?

***

Glancing down at the Gateroom from the Level 27 briefing room, General Hammond watched as the decon teams finished up, the device Major Carter created on P3S-295 coming to further use.

General George Hammond was still waiting for word from the infirmary now nearly four hours after the search and rescue teams had gated home, the two stretchers a sad reminder of the mission and the dangers that they faced everyday.

After a very brief report from Major Carter and Lieutenant Colonel Harper, he’d ordered the returning personnel and the rooms and hallways they used decontaminated immediately. There was no way that infestation would come to Earth if he had any say in the matter.

But even as watched the teams below, he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. There were letters to be written and from what he saw of the two survivors, two more names night be added to his list.

Shaking his head he stepped away from the window, his feet already taking him to the elevator and then to the infirmary. The lights were dim, the main ward quiet, the beds empty.

His footsteps echoed harshly on the concrete as he continued on, pausing at the door to Doctor Fraiser’s office, her light on, but the room vacant. A passing nurse stopped when she saw him pause, pointing him down the hall toward the intensive care ward. Nodding his thanks, he continued on, his heart hammering in his chest, his concern and worry rising to an even greater height than before.

Stepping inside, he caught sight of the petite Doctor standing at the end of one of the beds, scribbling notes into a chart. He moved toward her, his steps loud in the relative silence of the ward, and she glanced up, weariness etched into her face.

He stopped next to her, his eyes resting on the still figure in the bed before him, various wires and tubes coming out of every possible place—and then some—the pale, drawn features peaceful in unconsciousness.

Sliding to the left, another figure lay amid the same hardware.

Two survivors.

“Doctor—“ he began, but a raised hand from Fraiser made him pause.

Tucking the chart into the bin at the foot of O’Neill’s bed, she gestured for him to follow her, leading him into the hallway as she pointed a nurse in the direction of her two patients. She finally stopped, leaning against the wall, taking a deep breath and running a hand across her face. “Sorry, Sir, but for conversations like these it’s best that we do them out here.”

“What’s your diagnosis?”

“I can tell you what we do know,” she said and Hammond nodded, not liking the tone of her voice. “Both Colonel O’Neill and Major Wales are suffering from oxygen deprivation due partially to their encasement in that dust or dirt Major Carter reported, but that does not even begin to explain why they can’t breathe on their own. I have both of them on full life support right now and I’m waiting for their blood tests to come back so I can get a better idea of how to treat them. And, on top of that, Colonel O’Neill has a nasty cut on his leg, but that should heal easily enough.”

She paused, releasing a long breath. “There is one other thing.”

“What?”

“Major Hill mentioned using the sound device on the Colonel, and that there had been some blood. I took a closer look at his ears earlier and it appears as if there is a small puncture in both of his eardrums.”

“Which means?”

“That, most likely, he had some kind of hearing loss, but I won’t know for sure until he regain consciousness. The tear isn’t large and probably will heal quickly, but only time will tell.”

“What do you think—“ Hammond began, but stopped when Fraiser began to shake her head.

“Honestly, Sir, until I get some more information I’m just treating the symptoms, not the cause. I should know more in a few hours.”

Hammond nodded, his jaw set. He didn’t like what he heard, but there were some things he couldn’t push and this was one of them. ”Very well. You’ll inform me as soon as you can?”

“Of course, General.”

Glancing around, he realized something else was missing. “Where’s SG-1?”

“In bed I hope. I sent the entire delegation of them to bed after their post-mission checks. They were dead on their feet and no good to anyone.”

He smiled, knowing the truth in those words and the power she wielded so effortlessly. She was the original immovable object when it came to her patients and no one—not even SG-1—was going to stand in her way.

***

Deep in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain, past several locked doors and security checkpoints, a small vault quietly stood.

It was non-descript, really, nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, if ordinariness could be evaluated on a sliding scale of one to ten, with ten being the highest, this vault would be a forty-two.

That very fact made it the most unlikely of places for something to happen.

But inside that very fault, sometime in the middle of the night, a small block twitched.

One block became two.

Two became four.

Four became eight.

Eight became sixteen.

Sixteen became thirty-two.

And before a single Asgard blink the sound of clicking could be heard—but there was no one listening.

***

It was dark and quiet.

Too quiet.

Too dark.

But he could feel them.

He could feel everything, from the hands against his skin to the pinch of needles and tubes in places best forgotten. He wanted to scream, to move, to tell them somehow that he was here and awake and alive, but he couldn’t.

Trapped again, but this time within a body that refused to obey his commands.

And what was even worse, he’d never lost consciousness.

He felt everything, heard everything, until they’d done something and then everything had changed, as if the scales had tipped sideways and he fell into a dark, deep abyss where light and sound could not reach.

And then he felt his heart stop beating and his lungs release their last breath.

He came back to his senses, a tube down his throat, the rising and falling of his chest a gentle reminder that he was alive. But how could that be true? He’d felt himself die, hadn’t he?

The shifting breezes against his face, caressed him and gently rocked him. At first he thought it a dream, but the cold of the wormhole had dispelled that notion.

As did the careless touches as he was stripped naked, poked and prodded until he knew what a pincushion felt like.

But through it all, not a sound did he hear.

He knew he was home. There was no mistaking the feel of the infirmary—the tubes, the wires, and the needles galore. The occasional brush of fingers against his wrist or forehead and he knew that Doctor Fraiser was watching over him.

He was alive, but trapped in a living nightmare.

And in the silence and the dark he screamed, but there was no one to hear.

***

Daniel poked his head around the door, his eyes resting on the two beds at the far end of the ward. Glancing around once again, he finally crept in, approaching the beds with soft footfalls. The attending nurse looked up from her desk that sat a few feet away from Jack’s bed. Her expression of disapproval wasn’t unexpected.

“I thought Doctor Fraiser told you to get some sleep?” Anne Matthews said, her voice low as she suspiciously eyed the cup he placed in front of her.

“That was eight hours ago,” Daniel said, leaning on the desk, cupping his own mug of coffee in his hands.

She narrowed her eyes at him before commenting. “From the looks of things, you should still be in bed.”

“Anne…” he whined, although she did have a point. He’d looked at himself in the bathroom before sneaking down here and Daniel did have to admit that he looked a little worn around the edges.

“Doctor Fraiser specifically said you were to stay out of here for twenty-four hours. Now, I know you heard her because you made a face as soon as the words left her mouth. I would suggest leaving this general vicinity before Doctor Fraiser comes back.”

“Come on, just five minutes.”

“Daniel…” she sighed, shaking her head. “What good is five minutes going to do? It’s not like he’s going to know you’re here. He’s unconscious.”

“Anne, come on?” He flashed her a smile, one he knew had desperation written all over it.

“Fine. Five minutes, but if Doctor Fraiser—“

“I’ll take the blame, don’t worry,” he said, already moving to Jack’s bedside. “I bribed you with coffee.”

“I know,” she said, taking a sip of the beverage. “And I have the feeling that this isn’t going to be the first cup, so from now on make it light and sweet, will you?”

***

Throwing the chart on her desk, Janet Fraiser dropped into her chair and leaned back, her hands above her head, as she tried to stretch the kinks out of her shoulders. The labs had been going crazy for the past day and a half with little or nothing to show for it.

There was some strange chemical in both Colonel O’Neill’s and Major Wales’ bloodstream, but nothing so far had even come close to matching it. Intellectually, she knew that she was dealing with some kind of strange alien chemical, but most of the things they’d encountered had had some similarities with Earth’s biology. Why couldn’t this too?

Because that would be easy, that’s why.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she knew it was about time for her next rounds to check on her patients. And she knew one member of SG-1 would be lurking around the door, waiting for her—one of them always was. Their visits were limited to five minutes each and Janet was refusing to allow more than one every four hours—fifteen minutes tops for the three of them. If, for some reason, the Colonel or Major Wales got some kind of cold on top of this it would be disastrous.

As it was, this was flu season and she was carefully monitoring her own staff, rotating only the healthy ones to the intensive care ward.

Sitting forward she opened the file, sorting through the latest results, her eyes scanning the contents. One of the notations gave her pause, however, and she moved back to the beginning of the item, reading it again.

According to the report, there was something very similar to Phenytoin and Lidocaine in both patients’ bloodstreams, but no further explanation or description was given. She shook her head, trying to fit that in with the symptoms her patients were exhibiting, but nothing made sense. What did that have to do with anything? And how did that dust they were encased in fit into the big picture?

Disgusted, she shoved the chart away and stood. She had time to look at it in more detail later. If she sat for one minute longer she knew she’d end up screaming.

Tucking her stethoscope in the pocket of her lab coat, Janet moved out into the hallway, her heels clicking against the concrete. She hated not knowing, not being able to help, to treat her patients, but some of these alien diseases and chemicals were tough to figure out. Her staff, though, was the best. Given time they could figure anything out.

Time, though, was always an issue.

Nurse Matthews glanced up as she walked into the ward, offering a smile.

“How are we doing this afternoon?” Janet asked, pulling out the Colonel’s chart first, checking the readings before moving to his side. Placing the chart on the side table, her hand moved to his wrist, circling it, checking his pulse, getting the feel of him—not too hot, not too cold.

“No changes,” Matthews answered, rising to her feet and moving to the end of the bed. “All readings are within normal variances.”

“Good, good,” Janet said, patting his wrist before moving across the aisle to Wales, her checks repeated on the young Major.

“If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’m going to run to the little girl’s room,” Matthews said and Janet nodded. It was tough on the attending nurse because of her orders not to leave either patient unattended for any reason. When Janet came on rounds, she usually gave the nurse a chance to run down the hall.

A small sound, however, caught Janet’s attention, giving her pause as she began to turn away.

“Anne, did you hear that?” Janet asked, stopping the nurse in the doorway.

“Ma’am?”

“Shhh,” she ordered, waving the nurse to be quiet. Matthews approached slowly, her footfalls barely reaching Janet’s ears.

The noise repeated itself.

“That noise,” Janet said, moving back to Wales, her hand reaching down to grab the Major’s hand. “Major, can you hear me? If you can, please squeeze my hand.”

Janet waited but there was no pressure on her hand. As she started to disengage her hand, she heard the sound again. A moan.

Was she conscious?

How was that possible? For all appearances, both Wales and O’Neill were unconscious and had been since their arrival, with no voluntary movement of their own.

It was like they were paralyzed.

In the space of a solitary heartbeat, something in the back of Janet’s mind clicked. There was evidence of something similar to Lidocaine in their system, a sodium channel blocker. But there were other sodium channel blockers, like Tetrodoxin, some of which caused paralysis—especially respiratory paralysis.

And they rarely resulted in unconsciousness, which meant that the Colonel and the Major were paralyzed, but able to hear and feel everything going on around them.

But then the bottom dropped out from under Janet as she realized one other point—Colonel O’Neill was suffering from some kind of hearing loss due to his punctured eardrum. So for all intents and purposes, he was deaf, dumb, and blind—and trapped in a body that wouldn’t respond to his commands.

Damnit! Why did it take her so long to figure out?

“Anne,” Fraiser said, turning to the nurse. “I need you to prepare an intravenous bolus of hypertonic sodium bicarbonate, 1 to 2 mEq/kg and administer it to both Wales and O’Neill immediately. I have an idea of what might help counter the toxin in their systems, but I need to go to the lab and see if they have any other thoughts, but at least it’s a starting point.”

“Certainly,” Matthews said, pausing at the door, turning to look over her shoulder. “Ma’am, are they…”

“Paralyzed? Yes. And conscious? I think so.”

As realization sunk in of both patients’ conditions, Matthews’ shocked face probably matched her own.

***

Senior Sergeant David Adams stretched and leaned back in his chair, perusing the monitors spread out before him. Two more hours and he could go home.

Sometimes it was interesting to see everything going on at the SGC, peering into the lives of people he heard about in the base mess. Although, the whole Peeping Tom stereotype wasn’t a big plus when it came to his social life.

There were times he watched the teams go through the gate to unknown planets and he wished he did that. It was exciting, heroic. But then, he also saw them come home—injured and dead—or there were some that never stepped foot on Level 28 ever again.

Sometimes uneventful was nice.

A flickering screen on his right drew his attention and he slid his chair in its direction, hitting his hand against the monitor. Every now and then one of these things went on the fritz.

His gentle prodding, however, didn’t help.

A moment later the picture darkened completely and then turned to static.

This wasn’t a problem with the monitor.

Picking up the phone he dialed base maintenance. “Hey, Marty, it’s David up on 16. It looks like one of the cameras is out on Level 20, in the storage area…Yep, that’s the one. Thanks.”

Hanging up the phone, his gaze slid across the snow-filled screen before resuming his perusal of the monitors. His job was done.

***

Janet pushed down a bout of nerves as she settled into General Hammond’s guest chair, her files on her lap.

“Doctor, thanks for taking the time to see me. You mentioned something about Colonel O’Neill and Major Wales?” Hammond began, folding his hands over his closed laptop.

She nodded, immediately opening her folder and checking her notes, even though she’s read through them several times before walking in the door. “It seems as if the dust entities from P3S-295 secrete some kind of toxin into their victims, something along the lines of tetrodoxin, the toxin found in blowfish.”

“Now I know a little about them and that doesn’t sound good at all.”

“Like I mentioned, it’s similar to tetrodoxin in some respects, but there are some noticeable differences. The toxin is less concentrated, so it takes more of it to bring on symptoms. I’ve had the lab examine its chemical structure and they’ve determined that we can synthesize an antidote. We have already begun treatment. Major Wales has shown improvement in the past four hours and I am confident that she will continue to do so.”

“And Colonel O’Neill?”

Janet sighed, a worried smile finding its way to her face. “And we have also begun treatment on Colonel O’Neill, but I have been unable to see direct improvement in his condition. I’m worried that the cut on his leg might have provided more complications.”

Hammond’s eyebrows drew together. “How so?”

“It appears as if there is a greater concentration of the toxin in the Colonel and I believe that it is due to the fact that the entity had more direct contact with his bloodstream through his injury. In Major Wales’ case, the toxin entered passively, seeping through the skin and her mucous membranes.”

“So what’s your prognosis?”

“Good. I believe that once the toxin is counter-acted they will begin to breathe on their own and I’ll be able to take them off life support, but it’s going to take some time. With the Colonel, though, we might have some complications.”

“More?”

Janet nodded. “With the injury to his ears, we will be unable to determine the extent of his hearing loss until he’s not paralyzed and able to move on his own. At least with Major Wales we can explain what’s going on to her. With the Colonel, we can’t. I’m watching his pressure very carefully, since until the paralysis wears off, that’s my only indication as to his state of mind.”

“How is he doing?”

“His pressure is a little high, and has been since he was brought into the infirmary, but nothing to worry about—yet. Once the antidote starts working, I think he’ll be a lot better.”

“Keep me posted and good work, Doctor.”

“Thanks, Sir,” Janet said, rising to her feet, the sound of dismissal in Hammond’s voice. It was time to get back to her patients.

***

Sam dragged a hand across her face, trying to get rid of the cobwebs. The past few days had been hellish, to put it mildly. But even once they got home, things hadn’t been easy. Barred from the infirmary, SG-1 had found themselves a little lost. They kept drifting back every few hours hoping to visit, but Janet had strict orders and the nurses were sticking to them.

After Janet had found out about Daniel’s little bribe, she’d put her foot down and now they were only allowed to go every four hours. If it happened again, those visits would become reduced further.

So, they were obeying, but the waiting was killing them.

Daniel had stopped by earlier, his expression dark. ‘No change’ had been his only words and he kept walking, heading down the hall back toward the elevators.

Her hand shifted to the back of her neck and she rubbed, easing the tightness there. Her eyes caught the gaze of a passing Airman, one of Siler’s assistants. He paused and stepped into her lab.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Airman Stewart?”

“No, I haven’t, why?”

“He was supposed to check on something on Level 20 and then do some repairs on some of the labs on this level.”

“Well, I need to stretch my legs, so if you don’t mind I’ll walk with you,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Certainly, ma’am,” he smiled, unsure of himself.

“Airman…?” she began, stopping before him, tilting her head in question.

“I’m sorry…Airman Gary Ostroski. I work with Sergeant Siler.” He gestured for her to walk past him and into the hallway and they fell into an easy walking rhythm.

By the time they covered the entire level, they were certain Airman Stewart was nowhere to be found.

“Shall we try Level 20?” Sam asked, her hands on her hips as they stood outside one of the stairwells.

“After you, Ma’am,” Ostroski said, opening the door for her to enter.

The broken lightbulb over the door leading to the next level caught her attention. “I think you might have to come back here later,” she said pointing overhead.

Ostroski shook his head. “Whoever buys the bulbs needs to try a different brand. These things don’t last for anything.”

Sam chuckled and pushed through the door and into the darkened hallway.

This wasn’t right.

“Ostroski, there should be a flashlight—“

“Already on it, Major,” he answered, his boot-clad feet squeaking a little on the floor as he raced to the nearest lab and the closest flashlight. He returned a moment later, the high-intensity beam cutting through the darkness.

“What was Airman Stewart doing on this level?” Sam asked, walking cautiously down the hall with the Airman at her side.

“A report came in about a broken security camera. They go out every now and then and we have to come and replace them. It’s an easy fix.”

“Where was the camera?”

“In one of the supply rooms at the far end.”

“The secure storage?” she asked, a feeling of dread growing in her stomach.

“I think so. I’d have to double-check the report that was filed to know for certain.”

“No, no, that’s fine.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just call it a hunch.”

***

“The body was found just inside the secure storage area on Level 20,” Janet said, stalking up to Sam’s desk. The scientist glanced up from the papers she was organizing, tucking them away as she prepared to join the teams sweeping the base. Surprise lined her features at the sheer volume of the diminutive Doctor’s entrance.

“What?”

“Replicators, Sam. I’m talking about replicators. It seems that the sweep teams missed some.”

Sam’s expression blanked for a moment. “Not exactly.”

Janet raised an eyebrow. “Sam, what’s going on?”

She sighed before she began speaking. “I approached General Hammond during the base clean-up and requested the opportunity to study one of the replicator blocks. I assured him that there would be no danger to the base. He agreed to my request.”

“You what?” Janet paused when Sam shot her a warning look and she rephrased her initial response, trying to set her internal temperature to simmer instead of boil. “From our limited research into the replicators, you know that even one block could be very dangerous under the right conditions.”

“But—“

“Did Colonel O’Neill know?”

“I gave my request directly to the General because the Colonel was involved in the final survey of the base.”

“But you knew the Colonel’s feelings about the replicators. That’s why you went directly to General Hammond. Airman Stewart was killed by a replicator, not a replicator block. This thing has reproduced and there’s no telling how many there might be, or how long it’s been alive. What were you thinking, Sam?”

Her expression was grim and a bit sheepish. “I know, Janet, I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been. I’ve already heard it from the General, trust me. Teams have already begun to sweep the base. I know you’re especially worried about Colonel O’Neill and Major Wales because of the proximity and all, so please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”

Janet moved away from the desk, her tone icy. “No thanks, Sam. Haven’t you done enough?”

***

They crawled through the ductwork between the levels, their feet clicking against the metal and the concrete. They were still few in number but they were growing stronger.

And they could sense their brethren.

They needed to join with them and it wouldn’t be long until they could.

***

The goggles Teal’c had given him were giving him a headache.

He’d decided to wear contacts this morning, but Daniel hadn’t anticipated staring through plastic for half of the day.

When he’d heard the security announcement a few hours ago, he’d called Sam to find out what was going on.

And she’d explained.

Jack was going to kill her—slowly and painfully.

She’d asked him to help in any way he could. With several SG teams off-world, extra volunteers to conduct the sweep of the base were needed. He’d agreed, reluctantly, mainly because Sam had asked. It was really Jack’s job, this running around the base playing action hero.

But Jack wasn’t in any position to do that, or anything else, for that matter.

So, now he found himself skulking down semi-darkened hallways covering Teal’c’s six on the search for replicators.

They’d found only two so far, but there was no way to know how many there would be.

But Teal’c was attempting to track them.

“Search party one, this is Carter, come in.”

The radio crackled, nearly causing Daniel to jump out of his skin. The Jaffa answered, his voice perfectly calm and unflustered.

“Major Carter, it is Teal’c. Do you have news?”

“I have a report from Adams in the secondary bunker and it looks like there’s been a power outage on level 21, near the isolation rooms. Can you check it out?”

“You believe it to be the replicators, Major Carter?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving anything to chance. Carter out.”

The Jaffa turned and gestured for Daniel to follow him to the stairwell they’d passed a few moments ago. “I believe this is the quickest route to the section Major Carter indicated.”

Daniel nodded, following the Jaffa through the door, his thoughts still processing Sam’s order. “Teal’c,” he began, the words coming slow. “Isn’t the intensive care ward in that direction?”

“I believe you to be correct, Daniel Jackson,” he replied, edging out on to the hallways on level 21.

“Teal’c, what if they invade the ICU?”

“We shall not permit them access,” he said, his steps not hesitating.

“Easier said than done, don’t you think?”

The single glance from the Jaffa terminated any further thoughts on the matter. Daniel sighed and picked up the pace, determined to find the replicators before they found Jack.

***

Time, for him, had no meaning. The hours passed, the minutes slipping away, a continual flow. He’d tried to judge how many times Doctor Fraiser had stopped by but it was difficult. With no time reference there was no telling when her last visit had been—an hour before, ten hours, three minutes.

He dozed when he could, when his mind let him.

How long could he stay like this before he started to go crazy, before the edges of darkness started crashing down upon him?

There’d been a lot of activity before, people tugging and touching, but it had gone as quickly as it came, vanishing into the reality he couldn’t hear, couldn’t see.

A reality that was speeding by.

A reality that he was missing.

Only now did he realize how important his senses were for the sheer enjoyment of life, for living it.

The sound of the squeaky front door that he swore he would fix every time he opened it.

The birds chirping outside his bedroom window in the early morning hours, just as the sun was coming up over the horizon.

The ka-whoosh of the gate engaging never got old.

He even missed the sound of Daniel prattling on and on about some god forsaken ruin or another.

Carter’s insane scientific ramblings would even be music to his ears.

The clatter of his P90 wasn’t something he enjoyed, but it reminded him that he was living, that he was defending something he believed in, protecting it until his last dying breath.

A light touch on his ankle and his attention shifted, focusing on the sensation, waiting for something more to follow.

He waited several moments, trying to judge the time. When nothing happened, however, his thoughts began to drift once again, finding more interesting pastures in the fields of his mind and his memory.

And then something climbed on his leg.

***

Standing in the dim light offered by the emergency generators, Janet hovered over her desk, a phone receiver pressed to her ear.

“I understand, General, but we have to make sure the auxiliary generators don’t go down. There are two patients that are relying on that machinery to keep them alive.”

She picked up the telephone and pulled the phone cord along with her as she edged out to the door. She could still see light down the hallway, toward the ICU, but everything from her office and into the main ward was bathed in the glow from the emergency lights.

“I know, Sir, and I understand. Right now the circuits leading into the ICU are untouched, but I’m worried that they might be next. Everything around them—“

Janet paused, her words flashing a possible scenario in her mind.

“General,” she began, thoughts still racing, as she walked back to her desk, resting the base of the phone on the edge. “What if they’re building a safe zone around their main target?”

Her eyes widened as she listened to the General’s response.

“Yes, Sir, I’ll find them now. Fraiser out.”

Racing out the door, she ran for the ICU, on the lookout for Teal’c and Daniel. They were supposedly in the area.

The lights in the hall dimmed and then went out as she turned the last corner, only a few steps from the ICU door. She hesitated, stopping short. She wasn’t armed unless you count the stethoscope in the pocket of her lab coat and that wasn’t the best weapon.

Footfalls echoed down the hallway behind her and she turned, a bobbling flashlight blinding her momentarily.

“Daniel? Teal’c’”

Breathing heavy, Daniel stopped at her side, the P90 he carried uneasily in his hands. “We got here as quickly as we could.”

Teal’c brushed by her, his gun armed and ready, heading for the ICU.

As the door opened, the light from within spilled out into the hallway, silhouetting the Jaffa in the doorway. He stepped in, pivoting on his heel and freezing, his fingers tightening on the hilt of the gun.

She could hear clicking.

Racing to Teal’c’s side, Daniel close at her heels, she peered around the Jaffa, her eyes finding what she was dreading.

There were replicators in the room—nearly a dozen of them. Lori Johnson, new to the program, but a damn fine nurse, was lying on the floor several feet away, a puddle of red growing beneath her still frame.

Pulling her gaze from the body, she focused on her patients, the replicators climbing on the beds, the walls, and the machinery.

One was sitting on the Colonel’s chest.

***

It was something he couldn’t ignore.

There was something crawling on him, several somethings if you had to be specific.

He knew what it felt like—dreamed about it often enough after the whole incident with the robot—but they’d taken care of that particular problem.

At least, he thought they had.

But there was something crawling over him and it felt like it was nibbling on his leg, a little higher up than he would have liked.

What if it was what it felt like?

A sharp pinch on his leg, right where he remembered getting that cut, made the decision for him.

There had to be a way to him to see what was happening. Thinking back, he didn’t remember anything wrong with his eyes. It had gotten dark because he’d dropped his flashlight and the dust had formed over him. But there was nothing wrong with his eyes, per say. He was just having problems with his body listening to what he wanted it to do.

But what if his eyes were already open and he was blind?

A fleeting second of sheer panic settled over him, but he pushed it down, shoving it back into the box it had popped out of.

With every inch of his strength, he wrenched his eyes open only to discover that it would have been better if they were closed.

There was a replicator on his chest.

***

“Oh my god…” Daniel said, the words pulled from deep within. “Janet…Jack’s eyes just opened.”

Heart thumping in his chest, Daniel took a few steps further into the room, his first instinct to go to Jack’s side, but stopped when the replicator at the foot of Jack’s bed reared up and hissed.

This was not good.

“Daniel…” Janet warned, her hand touching the back of his arm and he nodded.

And then all hell broke loose.

Alarms ringing, bells clanging, and lights frantically flashing. Jack was panicking. And how could he blame him? He can’t hear, can’t move, and the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is a replicator sitting on top of him. What could be worse than one of your nightmares coming true?

Daniel stepped forward again, instinctively wanting to go to his friend’s side, but the angry hiss of several replicators, their backs rising in warning, stopped him mid-stride.

“Daniel…” Janet’s warning came again, her voice strained, heavy with emotion. Here she was a doctor and her patient was in pain—in obvious agony—and there was nothing she could do about it.

“I know. I’m not going any closer,” Daniel said, his eyes refusing to look anywhere else, his heart beating as frantically as the monitors across the room. “We have to get those things away from him.”

“I can effectively remove the replicators from O’Neill’s person with little risk of injury,” Teal’c said, his gun still pointed at the intruders.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Janet said, as she tried to contain her emotions. “We have no idea what they’ll do to Major Wales or the Colonel and we can’t risk you hitting any of the machinery. Right now it’s the only thing keeping them alive.”

And standing there, watching their friend, was agonizing.

But the sound of the alarms changed, Daniel glancing back to Janet, his eyes wide, his thought immediately turning dark. “Janet…”

“No, listen. They’re slowing,” she said, her hand on his shoulder.

And sure enough, the franticness was gone. There were still alarms blaring, but one by one the readings leveled off until everything fell silent once again except for the clicking of the replicators’ feet.

Jack’s eyes were closed again, but Daniel could only begin to imagine what was going on behind those lids and the amount of sheer determination Jack had to exert in order to get himself under control—even in the absolute worst circumstances.

He was a fighter, not one to give in to anything—especially not his fear.

Daniel glanced back and smiled tightly, his thoughts spinning back to what Janet had said a few minutes before, her words all too true. If the power went out in here—

“Janet, the lights are still on in here.”

“Yes, they are, Daniel,” Janet said, patting him on the back lightly, her tone patronizing. In his current frame of mind, however, his brain translated her words into ‘Thank you, Captain Obvious’.

“No, no, no. I mean, the lights are still on in here.” He waved his hand, encompassing the room with his gesture.

Janet’s eyes widened a little and she nodded slowly. “Yes, they are.”

“They’re not in the hallway. Why didn’t the replicators shut them down in here too?”

“I don’t know.”

“Doctor Fraiser, what does it appear as if the replicators are doing?” Teal’c asked, his baritone voice low.

Janet moved slowly, trying not to spook the watch-replicator at the end of the bed. Squinting her eyes a little, she observed them for a few moments before finally answering. “I’m not sure, but it looks as if one of them is under the blanket, down by the Colonel’s knee.”

“Then, we are in agreement,” Teal’c said, dropping his gun to hang at his side. “I do not believe O’Neill or Major Wales to be in immediate danger.”

Daniel and Janet whirled on the Jaffa, their response spoken at the same time. “What?!”

“If the replicators intended harm, would they not have killed Major Wales and O’Neill as they did Nurse Johnson and Airman Stewart? I believe there is something else that they desire.”

Teal’c paused for a moment, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Doctor Fraiser, is there any significant difference in O’Neill and Major Wales that would explain the way in which the replicators have converged on them?”

Janet shrugged, obviously unsure of what he meant. “I don’t know. It could be anything. They have the toxin in their bodies and now the antitoxin. That’s really the main difference.”

“Are there other differences?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Observe their behavior,” Teal’c said, inclining his head toward the beds at the end of the ward. “Most of the replicators are concentrating on O’Neill. Only two are currently on Major Wales bed and they are not injuring her.”

“Not directly, no, but I can see that her blood pressure is up, just like the Colonel’s, and if we don’t get them out of here soon I’m going to have other problems on my hands.”

“Is there a difference in Major Wales’ and O’Neill’s conditions?”

“Slight. He had more of the toxin in his system because of the cut on this leg. It allowed easier access to his bloodstream.” Janet paused and Daniel could see her thinking back to what she’d seen on their charts, running down the columns, comparing them in her mind. “If I remember correctly, there were also trace amounts of the dust entity itself in his system. I didn’t think much of it, since his kidneys would end up clearing it out with the help of the dialysis machine.”

“Perhaps that is what they seek.”

“The dirt?” Daniel’s disbelief dripped from his words.

“What other explanation can you provide, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked, turning his gaze on the archeologist.

“I don’t know,” Daniel said, unable to meet Teal’c’s eyes. “But I do know we have to get them off of Jack.”

“I am aware of the situation, however, at present I see no way in which to accomplish this task. Doctor Fraiser, would Major Carter be able to confirm my hypothesis?”

Janet nodded slowly. “I think so. She’s the only one who’s looked at both the entities from the planet and the replicators.”

“Then I believe it is time to consult with Major Carter. I shall remain here. Return when you have additional information.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but a glare from Teal’c and a tug on his arm by Janet changed his mind. He let himself be led out of the room by the doctor, his thoughts whirling.

One thing he knew for certain: Jack was going to kill them the first chance he got.

***

There was a damn bug on his chest. Hell, they were crawling all over him, covering him, suffocating him…

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hard enough and frantically enough that he swore it was going to leap right out of body.

They were crawling on him.

Feeding on him.

And he was alone.

He was in hell.

He could feel them on his body, their Lego-like feet sliding on the sheet, trying to find purchase, the sharp ends finally digging into his flesh and moving somewhere else, but never far enough away.

He wanted them off—now.

But try as he might, his muscles refused to obey his commands, refused to move, to budge, leaving him completely helpless, at the mercy of these bugs.

He couldn’t hear them chattering, but they had to be. And it had to be loud enough for someone to hear, to notice. Did anyone even know they were here?

What if the base been overrun? Was the SGC infested, its personnel lying dead in the hallways? Was he going to die here, alone and helpless?

He was a dead man…he had to be, but, why wasn’t he dead yet?

Think, Jack, think, he scolded himself. They should have killed him already, but he was still alive—if this was living. Being swarmed by bugs wasn’t his definition of life as he knew it.

There was something he was missing. The bugs, however, weren’t missing out on anything, continuing to crawl over him, poking and prodding the wound on his leg.

He was disgusted and terrified at the same time. He knew what these things could do, how they killed, what they were.

There were better ways to die, easier ways to die.

But he wasn’t dead yet.

Closing his eyes, he shut out the sight of the replicator on his chest, as if by that very gesture they’d go away.

But he could still feel them.

Pushing away the fears that clouded his mind, he concentrated on making them disappear.

He could feel his heartbeats begin to slow a little as reasoning slowly returned. Giving himself a heart-attack wasn’t the answer. Killing the bugs was.

And he hoped like hell that his team had a plan.

***

He could hear them arguing halfway down the corridor. While he knew it had been less than an hour since Doctor Fraiser’s report about the replicators in the ICU, as base commander he needed to know what was going on.

In reality, he couldn’t sit behind his desk any longer.

Rounding the corner, he paused inside the door, watching the antics within. Daniel Jackson was pacing back and forth, his hands waving in the air. Major Carter was standing in front of her microscope, hands on her hips, glaring in the archeologist’s general direction. Doctor Fraiser, noticing his arrival, flashed him a smile from where she sat on a stool on the other side of the lab.

“Daniel, I do know what I’m doing, you know,” Sam was saying, her voice tight with anger.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like it. Either they’re similar or they’re not. What’s with this ‘they seem to have properties in common’ crap? We don’t have a lot of time here.”

“Progress, people?”

Hammond could swear he heard their necks snap as their heads turned in his direction and he held back a smile. Sometimes it was good to be a General.

“Major Carter thinks that the entities on P3S-295 have similarities to the replicators, Sir,” Fraiser replied, her voice level.

“I take it Doctor Jackson disagrees.”

“I don’t disagree, General,” Jackson said, stepping forward. “I just don’t understand where all of this is going. We need to be doing something to get those things away from Jack.”

“We are, Daniel,” Carter replied, forcing the words out through her clenched jaw. “There has to be a reason why the replicators are interested in the Colonel specifically and the remnants of the entities from P3S-295 seem to be the only plausible explanation. While they are two very different types of entities, there are some similarities on the cellular level.”

“Anything we can use to kill them?” Hammond asked, base defense his highest priority.

“No. The sound device we used on the dust entities won’t work here.”

“Then what options do we have?”

Carter pursed her lips, her eyes taking on a glaze that he was used to seeing when she was thinking. “From the behavior Janet and Daniel described, it seems as if the replicators are protecting the Colonel. Am I right?”

“I’m not sure if I’d use the word ‘protecting’, Sam,” Fraiser said, rising to her feet. “They won’t let anyone come close to them, but they’re not acting like they normally do when in contact with humans.”

“As if replicators are normal,” Daniel muttered, turning to walk a few steps away, his hand coming up to rub the muscles of his neck.

“Why not, Janet? What are they doing?”

Fraiser shrugged. “They seem to be interested in the wound on the Colonel’s leg.”

“Isn’t that where you believe the dust entities from P3S-295 entered his bloodstream?” Hammond asked, pulling the information from the reports he’d received earlier.

“Yes,” Fraiser nodded, her head tilting to the side before he locked gazes with Carter. “Do you think they could be looking to consume the remnants of the dust entity?”

“It’s possible,” Carter nodded. “But why is the real question.”

“How similar are they?” Fraiser asked.

“Very. They have the same chemical composition. It’s just arranged differently.”

“Lots of metals?”

“Yes.”

“What if they can sense the entity’s presence? What if that’s the best ‘technology’ they can find? Or, what if their motives are more personal in nature?”

Jackson snickered. “They’re a toy, remember. Reese made them.”

“Yes, they were created,” Fraiser said, turning to the archeologist. “But these replicators are acting on their own. Reese isn’t here to control them. What if they believe they have some bond to the dust entities?”

“What, are they looking to join with them or something?” Jackson asked sarcastically, his fingers making quotation marks in the air.

“Why not?” Fraiser challenged. “This is alien technology, alien life forms, anything is possible.”

“So what do you suggest, Doctor?” Hammond asked, amazed at the speed of the ideas swirling around the room. No wonder why Jack looked dazed sometimes.

“If they follow the same pattern as other replicators, when they’re done with one thing they move on to the next, correct?” Fraiser asked, looking between Jackson and Carter for confirmation.

“So, we just wait until they’re done with dinner?”

“Doctor…” Hammond warned and the archeologist raised his hand, mouthing an apology to him.

“Basically, yes. We wait,” Fraiser answered.

“And then?” Hammond asked.

Daniel’s response surprised them all. “And then we kill every last block of them.”

***

Standing absolutely still, Teal’c watched as the replicators swarmed his friend’s body, each taking turns feeding.

Doctor Fraiser and Daniel Jackson had left more than an hour prior and had yet to return. Some of the replicators had begun showing signs of departing once again, straying further and further from O’Neill’s bed before returning to wait once again.

O’Neill had closed his eyes after the initial glance at the replicator on his chest and had yet to open them again.

The entire situation caused Teal’c much pain, knowing the feelings his friend had for the creatures infesting this room, and knowing how helpless O’Neill had to feel—unable to move, to speak, to hear—a warrior trapped within a shell of a body.

It was agony just to comprehend what might be going on behind those closed lids.

It took nearly all of his self-control to hold himself back from acting.

He could see in his mind’s eye what he would do: raising the gun and pulling the trigger, each bullet penetrating the body of the replicators, breaking them into pieces. Three blasts from his zat’nik’tel and they would be gone, completely wiped from the face of this planet.

He’d considered that option more than once.

Watching as he was, Teal’c began to notice a change.

They’d begun to move as a group, shifting to the end of O’Neill’s bed, the last of the replicators edging out from under the thin infirmary blanket.

Slowly raising his hand, he pressed the button on the side of his radio, and speaking low, he offered his report.

“The replicators are preparing to move. I would recommend teams two through five converge on the infirmary hallways. The replicators will not leave this section alive.”

***

Daniel raced along the corridor on level 19, heading for the stairwell that would take him directly to the hallway outside the ICU, Sam and Janet running behind, their footfalls echoing on the concrete.

“Daniel, wait,” Sam called, but he ignored her, pushing the stairwell door open and heading down the stairs two at a time.

Yanking open the door on Level 21, he raised his P90, steadying it with his left hand, his wrist protesting a little, but he ignored that as well. There were more important things to do right now.

He heard Sam and Janet enter the level several long moments after him, their steps pausing when they entered the dim light.

“All teams,” came Teal’c’s voice through his radio. “The replicators are on the move, heading into the corridor toward the stairwell.”

Daniel smiled.

They were heading to him.

***

The sound of gunfire was loud in the confined space of the hallway, but it helped her to find Daniel—with pieces of replicator at his feet.

“Daniel!” she yelled, tapping him on the back to let him know that she was there. His muscles twitched under her hand, but his hands remained steady.

“Keep an eye out, Sam. There has to be more,” he said, raising his voice over the racket. Gunfire further down the corridor followed by the sound of zats caught her attention.

“Teal’c?” she asked.

Daniel shrugged. “Probably, but after what they did to Jack, I don’t blame him one bit.”

***

Detouring through the wards, Janet moved quickly, her eyes watching for replicators. With all the noise in the hall, she wouldn’t be surprised to see some of the bugs look for refuge somewhere else.

She had one destination in mind, however.

This time, though, she made sure she was armed.

The dim light made for slow going, but she knew this floor like the back of her hand and her pace remained steady, her gun held at the ready.

One room away from the ICU she spotted one.

High up on the wall, hiding in plain sight.

It didn’t have a chance in hell.

***

They were gone.

Or at least he didn’t feel them anymore.

And while opening his eyes seemed like a good idea, his mind protested. What if they were still there and he just couldn’t feel them anymore? Maybe they’d just sucked him dry.

This had to be hell, because life couldn’t be this bad.

Or could it?

Knowing Jack O’Neill’s luck anything was possible.

And so he waited.

***

Stepping around machine and wires to reach the Colonel’s side, Janet stretched out her hand and laid it on his arm, rubbing it gently, trying to reassure him. His pressure was still up but not nearly as high as before, which made her happy. The less drugs she had to give him the better.

But he’d still not opened his eyes for her.

Reaching up, she put her hands on his face and turned it slightly so he could see her better, his eyes slowly fluttering open under her touch.

In them she saw a flash of fear and helplessness, but as soon as it was there it was gone once again, his gaze resting on her face.

“Sir, I know you can’t hear me,” Janet began, speaking slowly, hoping that he could at least read her lips. “The replicators are dead. You’re safe. And you’re getting better.”

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to gather her thoughts and feeling helpless that she couldn’t do more for him. When she opened her eyes, her gaze locked with his and a flash ran through her mind.

There was concern in his eyes and worry. It seemed he understood, at least a little of what she’d said. As she pulled her hands away, his heart rate immediately increased, panic flashing through his eyes for a second. She reached for the pad at his bedside and scribbled a quick note.

“SG-1 safe. Paralysis and deafness temporary. Concentrate on getting better. Okay?”

He held her gaze for a moment longer before closing his eyes once again, his blood pressure dropping another few points.

She sighed. He was going to be fine.

***

Peering around the corner of the door, Daniel glanced in, his eyes finally settling on his friend.

Things looked the same as they had before. He was still hooked up to multitudes of machines and life support, but according to Janet the paralysis was wearing off. His hearing would take longer.

It had only been a day since the incident with the replicators and it was the first time he’d had the opportunity to stop by. As painful as it had been to watch the replicators crawling over Jack—especially knowing how he felt about them—it had also brought him a measure of pride to see how courageous his friend could be even in the face of horrible odds.

He had stared his fears in the face and defeated them.

Nurse Matthews offered him a brief smile, but he could see the grief in her face. Lori Johnson had been a friend.

Offering her a supportive smile, he walked to Jack’s bed and watched him for a moment.

What made Jack open his eyes then, Daniel wouldn’t know, but he was grateful. Reaching over, he snagged the pad and pen lying on the bedside table and began to write. His message was simple.

“I’m sorry.”

Confusion passed along the lines of Jack’s face and Daniel continued. “I’m sorry for what I said, for what happened on the planet, for everything. It was uncalled for and unfair to you.”

Jack held his gaze for several beats before blinking once, slowly and deliberately.

Daniel smiled, placing the pad back on the table, his hand resting on his friend’s strong shoulder, grateful that he could still call him friend.

***

The sweep of the base took two days and by the time it was completed, Major Wales was already off of life support and had taken her first steps.

For Colonel O’Neill, it took another two days before he was allowed out of bed despite his vehement protests.—in writing.

His hearing loss due to the punctured eardrums was nearly complete but healing nicely. By the end of the first week, his hearing was beginning to return, one small piece at a time. The puncture had also affected his ability to get around on his own due to dizzy spells and occasional bouts of nausea.

He was eventually released, nearly two weeks after his initial admittance, to his on-base quarters, with daily visits to the infirmary for check ups. It didn’t make him happy, but it was either that or staying confined to the infirmary.

The nurses wanted no part of that and neither did he.

But even as his hearing returned, he’d remained quiet, much to the surprise of his team and the majority of the base. At first, they’d attributed it to his hearing loss, but when Janet let it slip during breakfast one morning with Sam that he was healing quicker than expected, they’d become concerned.

A quiet O’Neill was a thinking O’Neill, and a dangerous one at that.

***

Drumming her fingers on the top of her notes, Sam finally made up her mind, shoving her stool away from the desk, her feet hitting the floor. Striding to the door she was surprised when she walked into Daniel.

“Oh God, sorry,” she said, her hands grasping his shoulders as she steadied him.

“You’re in a hurry,” he commented, a wry smile on his face. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, his face thoughtful. “Have you talked to Jack yet?”

“No.”

“And you’re waiting for…? You are going to have to tell him you know.”

“I know, I know.”

“I did. Wasn’t so bad.”

She flashed him a grimace. “You went before he could yell at you. He’s been brooding.”

“I don’t think it’ll be as bad as you think, Sam. Admittedly, he’s not going to be happy about it, but I think he’ll understand if you explain it to him.” Seeing her disbelieving expression, he continued. “Use small words. Apologize a lot. Grovel if you have to.”

A half smile found its way to her mouth and she ducked her head. “Is that your expert advice?”

Daniel nodded. “For what it’s worth.” He shrugged, offering one final nugget. “Be honest. He trusts you and values your opinion. Give him the same courtesy.”

***

Hammond paused outside the door, his hand lifted as if to knock but hanging in mid-air, the gesture incomplete.

What was he afraid of? This was his base.

But he was worried.

Shaking his head, he rapped on the door, listening for the word to bid him entrance.

“Come in.”

Swinging the door open, he watched as Jack O’Neill clambered to his feet, but he waved for him to sit. “At ease, Jack. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Fine, Sir,” he said, shuffling around his desk to clear off his guest chair, dropping the papers on the floor. Hammond smiled. It was a unique filing system and one only O’Neill understood.

“Are you sure about that?”

O’Neill sank back into his chair as Hammond settled into the chair that had been cleared. “Doc Fraiser should give me a clean bill of health soon and I’ll be able to go home which will be a nice change to the concrete gray I’ve gotten used to.”

“She just wants to make sure everything is working right before sending you home. After everything you’ve been through, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to keep you longer.”

“She’s trying,” O’Neill chuckled, rubbing an invisible smudge off of his finger. “I’m not being very cooperative.”

Hammond raised an eyebrow and chuckled, but his expression quickly turned serious. “I wanted to apologize to you about approving Major Carter’s request. I was concerned about it but—“

“Sir, I’ve talked with Carter and she explained everything to me. I would have done the same in your shoes. How could you have known that the dirt on P3S-295 was a distant relative to the Lego bugs from hell?”

“In a way, I’m glad they were here since they seem to have helped speed your recovery by taking out the excess dirt and toxin in your system.”

“How ironic is that? Saved by a bug.” O’Neill shook his head.

“And I’ve already spoken with Doctor Jackson. He approached me after the team briefing and explained what happened on the planet. If you think additional punishment is due, just let me know—“

“No, that’s fine. Daniel and I have resolved things between us. And honestly, I should have taken care of it before we left. It won’t happen again.”

Hammond nodded once, seeing that Jack had made up his mind. Rising, he offered a smile and his hand. “Welcome back, Jack.”

***

Leaning back in his desk chair, Jack sighed and stretched his arms above his head, trying to get the kinks out of his shoulders.

Good old Doc Fraiser had been happy with his progress this morning, which meant less time under her thumb and the possibility of getting off of the base was much higher. He was optimistic that he’d be able to see the outside by the weekend.

Although, he’d never look at dirt and dust the same way.

He’d had to talk to MacKenzie, always fun when you only heard one in ten words—not that he listened generally, but it was the principle of the matter. He hated missing things.

Like friendships.

He knew that he’d made a mistake when it came to the whole incident with Reese. He’d had the chance to think about it over the past week and there were some things that he wished he could take back.

Daniel had apologized to him early on for his behavior on P3S-295 and he’d accepted it, shouldering some of the blame himself. Jack had known even before they left that there were things that should have been said between then, things that should have been addressed.

In that respect, Jack had acted like an ass, putting his team’s lives on the line by allowing personal issues to cloud his professional judgment.

But then, Daniel did have a point. When it came to things he didn’t know or didn’t understand, his first thought was of protection and self-preservation.

That wasn’t always the right thing to do.

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand across his face, wishing the piles of paperwork would go away, but a knock on his door drew his attention.

“Come,” he called, leaning forward, grateful for any interruption at this point. The petite form of Major Wales appeared in his door, his infirmary buddy.

“Major, come in. How are you feeling?”

She smiled as she entered, leaving the door ajar. “Good, Sir. Everything’s back to working order. How about you?”

“Nearly there, nearly there.” Jack gestured for her to have a seat in his guest chair after he cleaned off the papers he’d stacked there.

“Sir,” she began a few beats later, her words slow in coming. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“Nope,” he grinned. “Not surprised at all.”

“You see, I am,” she admitted, ducking her blonde head, a slight flush reddening her cheeks.

“You’re worried about something like that happening again, aren’t you?”

She nodded once, her eyes meeting his across the desk.

“I can’t tell you that you’ll never encounter something like that ever again. The universe is a pretty strange place and we’ve only explored a very small section of it.” Jack said, folding his hands before him, movement in the corner of his eye catching his attention. He knew who was standing out there, hovering, but he ignored him. “But, when it comes to missions, there is one thing you can count on beyond the shadow of a doubt. Two things actually.”

“What, Sir?”

“First, that no matter what happens, the SGC does not leave its people behind.”

“I know that. It’s what kept me going when I thought I was dead. I knew someone would come looking for us.”

Jack’s lips turned up in a smile.

“And the second thing?”

“That sometimes, when things look the absolute worst, help comes from the last place you expect. In my case this time, it came from the people—the person—I’d begun to take for granted.”

***

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall, not wanting to be found loitering outside Jack’s office. He’d been surprised to see the Major in there, but when he hear the words, listened to what Jack was saying, he knew immediately that they were for him.

Jack wasn’t big on talking, he knew, and even though he’d apologized for being an idiot, Daniel hated to leave things so open-ended.

While he was still upset at what happened to Reese, what Jack had done, Daniel understood a little better what was going through Jack’s mind, and why he’d done what he had.

He didn’t agree with him, but then, how many things did he and Jack see eye-to-eye on?

And honestly, there was no one else he’d rather have standing at his side. With all of his faults and his head-strong personality, he trusted Jack.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ambled down the hall feeling lighter than he had when he’d arrived. Things still weren’t perfect, but that was okay. They didn’t need to be. As long as they could talk to each other, even if it was agreeing to disagree, Daniel could live with that.

Imperfection was fine for him—in all its splendid colors.

***

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Plot bunny
> 
> A follow-up for season 5's Menace, after Daniel calls Jack a "stupid son of a bitch". I want those two to be at odds with each other after that little 'disagreement' over Reese. Jack can be hurt/upset/guilty over it...and well, Daniel is too come to think of it. But both are stubborn and so haven't sorted it out by the time they have their next off-world mission (not Sentinal).
> 
> Basically, I want lots of whumping of Jack, and you can whump Daniel too, and there to be lots of angst between Jack and Daniel. By the end they need to have resolved their issues.


End file.
